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Saturday, 28 February 2015

Egotistical Bollocks.

The sun has risen, there is hope out there for a blue sky and all is quiet in the house. The dogs are snoring on the sofa, one cat stretches in her natural yogic manner and my girls are oblivious to the drama that I have been living in recently. I made a deal. I even said it out loud. When Mum died I swore that from that day onwards, I would not allow anything in my life unless it was straight forward and simple. So obvious? Of course. As a child of an addict and an alcoholic with the unpredictability of what might come next, I drew a line underneath any expectation. That was that. Job done. Easy or not at all.

So why, I ask myself, did I ever think for a single second that getting involved with a man who had a wife was a positive thing to do? He was separated and had been unhappily married for years. Poor thing. Poor thing my arse. He made choices just like we all do but because his life didn't turn out to be the sugar coated dream he'd hoped for, he was distracted and he side stepped my way. In fact, he stood in my path waving flags of promise and crying out that he was my answer. I truly believed (a part of me still does) that I had met the man that was the missing piece of my jigsaw. I believed that fate has ensured that our paths had crossed at exactly the right time and that the recognition was mutual. It was my turn I thought. At last I understood. The years of torment and frustration were over. Here was a man who had walked into my life and was prepared to walk with me forever. In fact, he told me so.
"You are the love of my life". I sighed, dropped my shoulders and believed him. Fool.

Then Life continued. As it does if you're lucky. I wasn't quite the little mouse with a sweet smile and a patient head (or tongue often bitten) that he had presumed. My ears got bored of the incessant references to his official other half and the complaints of how he was still being treated wore me down. There is only so much I can listen to before I started to wonder why nothing is progressing. Maybe the role of victim was set to default? Maybe the need to separate didn't truly require divorce? Maybe as his distraction, to then become the reality wasn't on his choice of menu? I know what I think and perhaps I'm wrong? I could be. It happens. I do get things wrong but the trouble is, this man expected me to know all the answers and make every decision a right one. I have not a clue how marriage works (obviously) and I have no idea how to advise someone constantly when they don't expect the reply they hear.

So what do I really think? I think that men should be born with a smoke machine attached to their backsides that regularly can do what they expect us women to do daily. I think if you're married and you're unhappy, truly unhappy- deal with it before you declare undying love for a woman who didn't ask for it. I think if you have children, put them first but don't lie to them. Don't kid your kids with some fob off  excuse. I was once that child and aged 7, battered, bruised and hungry, I still knew the truth of what was going on. Face up to your choices (me too) and either walk forwards or side step but don't stand still and wonder why life is passing you by. Keep it real. Everyone wants the 'Happy ever after' but very few expect it to land on their doorstep. Oh and if you're going to ask someone if they one day might marry you, don't then dump them within a fortnight. Life is tough. We all change as things happen, jobs alter, people leave us but Life is the answer. It's the Right Now that counts. If it isn't good enough today, it almost certainly won't be better tomorrow.

I am concerned (only a little) that each relationship I dip my toe towards doesn't work out and I question my ability to share my life with a male adult. I have solid, reliable and brilliantly funny adult woman in my life who together over the last few days have advised me and made me see sense.
I envy anyone who has a happy union and hats off to you for sharing your lives together. Would I do it again? Unlikely. I need to accept that some things I cannot change and perhaps I should take heed of my own advise and Just for Today be bloody grateful that my life is my own.

One girlfriend squealed with excitement and clapping her hands with an almighty grin told me to "take a string of lovers- younger ones without the doe eyed children at his feet" and have some fun. I laughed at her ease of swiping the screen blank but that isn't what I'll do. I'm sticking to what I know:
Straight forward and simple or not at all. Amen. (quietly closes the door and breaths)

Friday, 27 February 2015

Have your cake and eat it.

Look what I've got.. 

It's Dark Chocolate cake with Pistachios from our lovely local Daylesford. On special offer. 30% off. 
Sometimes there is little left to do except eat cake. I'm allowed to have my cake and eat it because it's the only cake I've got. It would be wrong to have 2 cakes. That would be greedy.

In case you're wondering, it's as delicious as it looks. Excuse me while I stuff my face..

Shit starts with an S. So does Spring luckily.

What do you do when someone you love finds all your insecurities and anxieties too much? Do we, as women, need to hide our true selves from the men in our lives to protect them from thinking we might break? Do we fluff over our vulnerability and insist that we are fine? Do we simply pretend even when acting is so hard to do? Do we listen to troubles and woes with comforting words, reassurance and promises of "All will be better soon"? We do, if we are speaking to our children. For I am a mother to them. I am not a mother to anyone else. I took The Boyfriend at his word but his word wasn't concrete.

"Never show your true self"- I was advised by a successfully 'double decade' married woman when I first met The Boyfriend. How odd, I thought. I will always be real.

"You must be yourself"- insisted The Boyfriend when we first fell head over heels in love with the memory of our youth and had our lives before us way back when.. How lovely, I thought. I will always be true.

The Boyfriend has some serious shit to sort out. No shit Sherlock, I thought and with relief naively believed he meant it to be a pause in our paths together not a monumental shift removing him from my life with my children in a single gear change.

The truth is that The Boyfriend is still someones husband and the shit he has to sort out is theirs not ours. Daily, he is torn between what was and what is. It saddened me to admit that the reality of what I am isn't what he'd hoped I was. I am not the answer to his unhappiness, I simply had hoped he might be mine.

"This is me" stressed The Boyfriend encouraging me to keep speaking the truth and admitting how I felt. Time and time again trying to ignore the anguish of his story telling and taking deep breaths. I sighed, I was accused of scoffing?

"But this is not you" I would like to reply to Her Husband knowing that not just geographically he is not in the right place. He has made a mistake. His mistake wasn't marrying her or even leaving her, his mistake was meeting me.

Forgive me for accepting that I am a girl with feelings and that when I'm hurt and in pain, I react. Perhaps if I buried my head in the sand and had lied that talk of the wife, the mother-in-law and the children hadn't upset me, we would be okay? But that would be wrong. That is exactly why he left his wife he says..

I'm asking you to ignore my tears.

It's nearly Spring and I was granted permission this morning to write what I liked on my blog. I didn't realise that I ever needed permission to tell the truth?

The moral of the story- is such an obvious one- we all know it, I know it, I'm justifying my hope of a happy ending but I have to write it because, after all, it's the reality- NEVER get involved with a married man. Even one who tells you that his marriage is over, that they are separated and have been unhappy for years.

If you look carefully you'll see my washing on the line, the sky blue above, our kitchen now built, the cat sitting peacefully on the roof and the door, always open still has my heart hanging on it. Maybe it's time to accept that my heart needs to be fixed permanently. And of course, I am the only one with the tools.
That'll do, I sigh enjoying the peace and realisation that I cannot fix anyone else's heart.
Off to get my hammer.

I wonder what my mother would say? I told you so.

Sunday, 22 February 2015

Just as it is..

Sometimes, Life is exactly as it should be.

I find it over-whelming how in today's society, with the pressure of 'must do' and 'must have' at every turn, the constant pushing to be punctual, never allowing ourselves to switch down a gear and risk being late, firing questions at children always expecting the correct answer, washing, cleaning, wiping, turning.. walking at speed rarely at a stroll, never leaning back and closing our eyes unless we are officially entitled under a foreign sun.. and daring to think, suggest, announce "Bollocks to it, Today I simply won't.." That I, who live in fifth gear, rushing, stretching, expecting yet trying not to, can sit still, look through closed eyelids and feel the love of the world before me.
All angst seeps from my body, stress evaporates and like a slow puncture I let go of my urgencies and come to a standstill.

I have taught myself to do this. I am lucky that through yoga and meditation I can find calm when I remember that I can or when, ironically I find the time. Unless I am here. This is a tiny part of Heaven. My Heaven. I can be still, calm and I feel completely at Peace.

I opened my eyes and with the sun on my face I saw 
Jonathan Livingstone Seagull. 

And I was reminded again, Life is exactly as it should be. 

Sunday, 15 February 2015

Today. Truth.


Today I woke feeling my ordinariness next to me.
I never wrote a masterpiece, painted a perfect landscape or played an etude.
I cannot beat the African healing drum like a shaman
to intercede between the realms.
I don't know how to touch people to resolve them
of all their inner conflict or traumas.
I have never looked into a crystal and saw the divine
I am not a psychologist, a therapist, a counselor or a saint.
And Das is not part of my name, 
my name is ordinary.
As I thought about how the opportunity to tend to a painful wound
as if it were an injured plant
or delicately administer soothing salve to another earthly soul
would not be mine because I do not possess
the official requirements,
I felt a particular sadness
as I were, somehow, not enough.

Then suddenly I remembered everything is well within me.
For I know my certainties
and all that has ever been established before me
are in sacred correspondence.
I know about the stars and how they gather as constellations
to guide the wanderer through all the eras.
I know of the bamboo that will not flower until many years pass by
and how the blossom gives its life as nourishment and protection
so that the tiny seedling within may push forward and grow.
I know there are mysteries not fully understood.
I know each life holds a unique path,
eventually drawing to an end for all.

And when I sat at the bedside of an elderly woman dying,
or on my knees next to a fading animal
struggling for her last breaths
after a long earthly journey,
there was no difference to my attentiveness.
I felt equal compassion for both,
then wept the same mournful tears.

And I know for certain that when I look into another human being,
whether they have eyes to see out or not,
I can behold them.
I can view the hurt in them and feel the wounds in me.
It is a pain that agonises quietly inside as we share it..
So I reach out to comfort them.
These are the opportunities to extend
and touch another soul and with all that is me me now.
And that is good enough for me.

Written by Susan Frybort.

Saturday, 14 February 2015

Happy Valentines.

Something has happened that I never believed could happen. I was told it never would, never could. Sometimes the only thing to trust is your gut instinct and the only thing to believe in is karma.

So I am going away. Will I come back? Of course. I'm just not sure when.