Life is a veritable smorgasbord of ‘WoW’s and ‘Ergh’s…..a feast of the good the bad and the downright ugly shmuggle. I Believe the ugly stuff is not ALL of our own making and …………..even if were, are we not >ALL< Human? We have been led to believe, things are as they they appear to be (I’m speaking of learned behaviours here )….. I Believe that many times they are absolutely NOT the way they appear!
I Believe much of what we are fed by politicians, society, family are illusions……. illusions which are making us ill, causing us to take our own lives, to kill or hurt other others with words and or actions……..
and I believe there are many wonderful things on the board too which help us avoid or heal from the damage of the bad…..
I Believe that sometimes we need a torch, tools and even a guide to help us avoid or get rid of the bad unhealthy stuff….. and then you see, we can enjoy the magnificence that was covered by those nasty things I shall label
I Believe, I/We/You can allow solace in our lives from knowing and not forgetting these things.
The word ‘Encourage’ has always meant to me to imbue with curage/courage…. it’s apparently a word which goes back to the 15th century…. we need it today more than ever, I would say. It implies instilling life; that is precisely how I experience it. Here is a little offering:
Encouragement is Life.
Give me break when
I tell you how I am!
I don’t need your lambasting
or your controlling words……
You want me to change?
Then put away that stick
and offer the carrot to
help me see in the dark.
When you encourage me
with your laughter and bright
smile, I come alive and want to LIVE.
Encouragement IS Life…..
and surely you should know,
a plant would never grow
if the sun scowled upon it!
Eyes moist, no reason for tears to sit, sometimes leaking down a face which doesn’t realise they are there, let alone know why. Very strange and mysterious is the interior life which knows incalcuable depths, yet keeps those same vaults hidden and locked away from world ….. and smiling, survivor self.
Written when the veil has come down and is around my shoulders. Written in honour of ALL who travel with black dog somewhere around, nearby and who wonder why …..yet all will be well.
He doesn’t bite,
this black, silent dog.
He just catches your darkened eye
in a quick skewed glance,
keeping you captive with his heavy stare
and drops down his silken swaddling cloth,
don’t you make a fuss now.
You don’t ask for this-
he just does it…..
you the prisoner,
he the stumm, cold jailer
who comes and goes
at his own pleasure.
Shake out of it.
Pull yourself together.
You’ve got so much to be thankful for.
They call him Depression
and pump you, his captive,
the silenced manekin with drugs….
They hope black dog will be gone…..
But we know, black dog and I
that he lifts the veil off, that swaddled cloth,
as fast as he dropped it on,
only at his choosing;
not theirs nor mine, but his.
Sometimes there is truth which is so packed with aching pain,
in a split moment we become frozen, silenced, traumatised….
Sometimes, for fifty five years, never realised.
Today, that which was held for all those years
was spoken out for the first time….. a sacred time.
1958, the news on our new telly,
horrific details of a small child abused by its parents.
In that moment, back then,
I stopped breathing,
I saw the presenter speaking on the square screen,
I saw my father, mother
and the blazing fire across our lounge.
The story of vile cruelty towards the child
and the sound of the words about roaring flames
I was truly lost…..
Five and frozen, breathless, internalised trauma..
A tragic photograph captured
in every cell of me, this young, empathic child.
I spoke of it,
I wept for it.
I began the release of it…..
fifty five years of holding it,
finally breaking up and
letting go, letting go, letting go,