Fundraiser for my Daughter & Family

Sometimes Life can be the most difficult thing to navigate and when you’re ill, it’s even worse.

It’s a long and complex story, but Kim finds herself back in the state of homelessness with her two children. They are currently surviving in one room in a hotel which is costing anywhere between $65 – $105 A NIGHT! It’s scarily expensive and exhausting. Brain surgery on Kim in 2013 has left her still disabled and in pain in her head, shoulders and arms. Her son Michael has learning disabilities and is on the Autistic spectrum and finds life very challenging.

I live in the UK and my family are in Tennessee…. I saw them last in 2013 and I miss them….. I am still recovering from serious illness myself…. and feel incredibly sad that I am not there to help.

Please give if you can and if you are unable to, please SHARE IT!

https://bubblingwordclouds.com/…/fundraiser-for-my-daughter…/

 

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Enough is Enough!

I explained to my therapist on Thursday that, having been on and off diets since aged 9 years old (I am now 64), I had a major breakthrough on Wednesday evening. I was flicking through TV channels (as you do!) and came across that nauseating programme: ‘Embarrassing Fat Bodies’. Being the self-flagellating person that I *was*, I watched 10 minutes of it, enough to then turn it off. What I did hang around for was a segment where a

I was flicking through TV channels (as one does!) and came across that nauseating programme: ‘Embarrassing Fat Bodies’. Being the self-flagellating person that I *was*, I watched 10 minutes of it, enough to then turn it off. What I did hang around for, was a segment where a 56 year old woman had lost 14stones. She looked older than 56, but the real shock came when she was asked to remove her upper clothing. All the weight she had lost had left her with incredible amounts of loose skin which, had she been 95 years old it wouldn’t have been a shock, it would have been a natural progression of the physical body changing.

Suddenly, even though I have seen images like this before, I realised I shall stop this struggle to be an average weight because I have never been and now, I never will be because I refuse to put myself through this a minute longer. To have my body turn into a collection of shrivelled creases, where it cannot spring back to youthful smoothness, is not what I want and neither would I intend to have it surgically removed.

A lot  (most) of my adult life has been spent *TRYING* to be acceptable, beautiful, lithe and slim…… That’s it…. no more. IT’S ME TIME NOW …… JUST AS I AM! 

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There is Still Beauty in Suffering.

It’s so easy to think we are ugly… I have been there, have done it, still do it, am beginning to stop it….. I empathise…. but I also say, we see more of our own imperfections (what are those anyway!?) than anyone else does. I/we can easily say how beautiful I think you/we are, yet… that is a fleeting consolation to you/us unless you/we believe it ourselves…. I know you know this. There is something about living this life where one of our many lessons is to truly embrace our humanness, with our beauty, our ugliness, our suffering and our elation. At the end of the day, you/I/we are perfect in our imperfections and WE ALL make up the majestic mural of what it is to be gloriously human. You are stunning;

thank you for being on the planet! 
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Love’s Song

Falling into your tired
and gentle eyes,
I found in you a
resonating thread
just glowing
like illuminations
from the silver moon
through the clear,
stark window pane.
I looked with my
humming heart at you,
and then moon,
in her vibrant wisdom,
threaded and melded
our sacred sounds with
the eternal line of time.
Time – which has
no beginning and no end
and asks nothing of we two
but to simply be
Love’s Song.

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Grey

 

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Grey…. I am not sure about this…….it’s more a pewter, but dull….

dull ……. oh…. so ….. dull…..”Dull as ditch water”, a grump riddled parent used to bark…… not about the weather, but about some creative piece I had written or drawn……

Dull – as – ditch – water………

I remember winters then. I remember snowdrifts, sledges, being pulled, but being scared, snowballs in the face ….. getting frozen toes and  jolly red cheeks…..soaking wet socks, the crisp nakedness of undisturbed fallen snow; where has it all gone?
oh, how I loved winter, then.

It’s this grey….. this grey that hangs around like a splodge of badly mixed paints, looming, ready to tip all over my world… but it never happens….. not today anyway…… it’s just grey……

Like my mood: incubating….. not dull, no…….never that.

breathing through dried mud.

I’be just been to the most wonderful Qigong session. I was brought back to my heart and to at  least one rather profound revelation.

We did a ‘standing posture’. We don’t usually do these, but I remember them well from my  Energy Therapy Training at Snowlion schule.   As if I needed to be made even more aware of pain! Argh…. I heard a voice in my head say “I am in so much pain when I stand still.” Yes, it’s true. Physically I am in a lot of pain if I just have to stand. As it is, that Nirvana state which is possible is nowhere in sight for me. But it meant more than that . It was telling me that when I don’t keep working at/on/with moving on, getting things done, being busy, I AM IN PAIN.

I recall how my maternal grandfather and my mum used to do potato picking up to earn money. I would go with her sometimes, yet I hated getting mud and dirt on my hands. Not when it was wet, but when it dried on me. It was as if I couldn’t breathe.

On one particular day, my grandfather really shouted at my mum because I wasn’t helping pick up spuds. I think I was about 8 or 9 years old. “Lazy little bugger” are the words I remember my Grandfather saying. That upset my mum, pushing her into anxiety and shame  – about me and about herself….. The bad mother syndrome, foisted on to women by angry men. She felt that at my age, I was too young to be forced to do it, however…. that was not her response to me. In turn she laid into me and was really ratty with me for what feels like, the rest of her life 33 years to be precise.

And so that label stuck. I then went on to spend the rest of my life until 2011, forcing myself to keep going, to jump up quickly from the chair, to run upstairs, to cycle everywhere, to work hours on end. My belief was that I had to do anything I could to not appear – ‘fat and lazy’. I had to jump through hoops of fire and not get burned.

After gradual decline, post mum’s passing,  I became seriously ill with FMS (fibro) filled rapidly by cancer; the rest is history.

Now, those ego driven, scared, hurt behaviours of the child – ME, are impossible. Too much has happened. Too many hurts have fermented and exploded into dis-ease, in me.

So – facing the stillness is now imperative. Perhaps I shall find myself hidden in those layers of pain. Perhaps – could it even be that it’s all okay? Maybe it is.

👑