When we are hurting,
some of us build up a prickle-bed around ourselves
as a form of protection perhaps.
It seems to me that with a passionate nature come deep feelings.
These can equally be of joy and ecstasy
as of sorrow and pain.
Perhaps the latter are the price we pay for the former.
Do I think that the former are worth the latter?
For myself, I'd say yes.
Friday, 26 July 2019
Tuesday, 23 July 2019
Sunday, 21 July 2019
About the patchwork quilt of our lives
Sometimes, we can seem to be a patchwork quilt
of conflicting thoughts, ideas, desires,
failings and failures.
(Or is it just me on a bad day!)
May I always remember that
On a good day
life can be a wonderland
of joy, colour, excitement and delight.
of conflicting thoughts, ideas, desires,
failings and failures.
(Or is it just me on a bad day!)
May I always remember that
On a good day
life can be a wonderland
of joy, colour, excitement and delight.
Wednesday, 12 June 2019
On not listening (and turning into my mother!!)
Some years ago, after a lifetime of packet and tinned soup usage, I began slowly to turn into a (weak) version of 'mother earth' and started to make my own!
Second youngest son, on coming into the kitchen to find the (very limited, I must add here) surfaces covered with various peelings and scrapings of vegetable matter, came out with the unforgettable (to me) remark, "Mum, you're turning into Nanna!!"
(My mother lived with us for ten years so her cooking habits were a very noticeable aspect of our daily culinary life!).
How many of us 'over-sixty' year olds find ourselves saying something very similar. Husband gives himself many a fright on looking into the mirror. "I'm turning into my dad!!", he'll say with a grimace. No disrespects to his dad at all, just an intimation of mortality, I suppose.
Anyway, I find myself falling into a habit that used to drive me mad about my mum. I ask a question and don't listen to the answer (mind having gone into overdrive about something else immediately after said question had left mouth!).
Ah well, another example of the need to turn my eyes towards heaven and silently breathe "Sorry Mum"! (The 'sorry' being for the impatience and annoyance with her which I frequently felt and, quite sadly, often showed. She was, in contrast, extremely tolerant towards me; good job, eh!
Second youngest son, on coming into the kitchen to find the (very limited, I must add here) surfaces covered with various peelings and scrapings of vegetable matter, came out with the unforgettable (to me) remark, "Mum, you're turning into Nanna!!"
(My mother lived with us for ten years so her cooking habits were a very noticeable aspect of our daily culinary life!).
How many of us 'over-sixty' year olds find ourselves saying something very similar. Husband gives himself many a fright on looking into the mirror. "I'm turning into my dad!!", he'll say with a grimace. No disrespects to his dad at all, just an intimation of mortality, I suppose.
Anyway, I find myself falling into a habit that used to drive me mad about my mum. I ask a question and don't listen to the answer (mind having gone into overdrive about something else immediately after said question had left mouth!).
Ah well, another example of the need to turn my eyes towards heaven and silently breathe "Sorry Mum"! (The 'sorry' being for the impatience and annoyance with her which I frequently felt and, quite sadly, often showed. She was, in contrast, extremely tolerant towards me; good job, eh!
Wednesday, 22 May 2019
About feeling angry with the ways of the world
No matter how angry we feel, we cannot change the world for everyone,
but we can change it for the people in our own lives
by trying not to do to them those things
which upset and anger us.
but we can change it for the people in our own lives
by trying not to do to them those things
which upset and anger us.
Saturday, 18 May 2019
About the enemy in our own camps
Let us beware the enemy in our own camps.
These can be hard to spot but they are surely there for many of us.
These can be hard to spot but they are surely there for many of us.
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