Are the voices in my head too loud for you?

Say it with Flowers Again!

The last post seems to have worked so back to my usual natter.  First and foremost we had a wonderful surprise the other afternoon when a neighbour arrived with a very splendid bouquet of summer flowers and a box of chocs.  A 'little bird' had mentioned we had enjoyed birthdays the previous week.  It was a super surprise.  My partner is devouring the chocs and I am enjoying the flowers!!!!  It was very unexpected and a timely reminder that generosity seems to just happen. and is best enjoyed in the moment

Another beautiful day with white horses breaking on the waves. The copper acer in the garden looks like a beautiful flaming mane.

I have been concentrating on getting my act together with composition ideas.  Rather than holding them in my head I am trying to put them down in a sketch book.  I am very disicplined with ideas for books and articles and keep an ideas book and a commonsense book for quotes and other interesting bits and bobs.  Taking my art this seriously is a new development.

I have an idea for a tryptch with a seaside theme; and I am keen to finish the large outdoor panels I am creating for The Sanctuary.  They will be hung on the outside wall where building regulations folk encouraged us to block up two windows.  Thses panels will cover the lack of rendering - and make an interesting (I hope) outside study.  As our neighbours are a third of a mile away I don't think they will mind too much!

I have been to see if I can take a picture framing class this afternoon.  It looks possible but because I am a guide dog user they will want to do a risk assessment - handling tools - Stanley knives etc...  With a bit of luck this will work out.  I now need to find a supplier for the beading that makes frames.  It must be cheaper to buy this on-line than go to a frame shop and buy a length 'over the counter'.

I am incredibly fortunate to be in a position where I can shore up my progress and bed it in thoroughly.  I feel I am more or less the 'old Jane' without the anxiety.  In other words I do a passable impression of Dylan in The Magic Roundabout.  I am consciously trying not to let things get to me.  It is hard to comply with the mantra "Stay in the moment" all the time!  I had a slight panic this afternoon when my guide dog was obviously unhappy and uncomfortable.  My partner remembered that Rainbow had eaten a large bar of milk chocolate yesterday afternoon!  Straight to the vet.  Huge squits in the vet's car park.  The ultimate social faux pas!!!  Checked over.  He is fine and has some syrup and chicken and rice dinners.  Poor dog.  Caught me though.  I thought he was going to die and stayed in the car.  I knew he wasn't but I felt he was.  Bonkers - but at least I can see it for what it is.  Rainbow is now well settled under my desk, snoozing, as I type.  He will think his throat is cut living on chicken and rice for a little while.  He is a black lab to the marrow - and is simply a huge stomach on four legs.

My brother has had the inspired idea of creating an entry in Wikapedia for our Dad.  In his chosen profession as a magician, pupeteer, children's entertainer and producer he was well-known and widely respected.  I think it would be a super thing to do.

Off to see our son soon and to head over to Guildford.  I am taking piles of books to read ready for the conference and a DVD we are invited to watch.  I must also start some preliminary notes for the paper I need to give - feels like old times.

On return from this trip south I am continuing to routinise as much as I can.  It sounds strange to say I am looking forward to it - but I am.  I can't wait to cook again - properly - although I am seriously out of practise - and the paper I have to write will be the first piece of serious academic work in several months.  Gently does it.

Say it with Flowers

I am having real problems posting blogs at the moment.  Fingers crossed this will go through.  If it does I'll try writing more.  Having lost the last three I am fed up with trying!

70th Birthday Celebrations

I am writing this whilst devouring a fresh cream eclair.  Birthday celebrations - my partner is 70.  It feels quite unbelievable - but he is - and looking and feeling good to boot.

Recently approached a couple of local galleries and sent some photos of canvases through to them.  Feedback from one gallery was very straightforward - my style wasn't their thing.  The other gallery have been unbelievably helpful and positive.  My work shows potential but I need to work on technique and technical issues.  I told my art therapist on the phone today about this huge boost and she said it was a little like playing the piano - you need to practice the scales to get anywhere.  True enough.  I will now research some short art courses - and with the help of the gallery I now have some contacts for local Highland exhibitions that I may be able to contribute to.  Wow.  Yippeeeee.  So the painting is really dveloping hands, feet and a heart of it's own.

I was taken out to lunch by a rather handsome 70 year old man.  We went to one of our favourite watering holes and it was a wonderful opportunity to wear my birthday trousers (as opposed to suit) - gorgeous patchwork!  I felt like the bees knees even if I probably resembled Worzle Gummidge in reality. I don't care I LOVE them! 

We have had a smashing celebratory day.  Much as usual with the mix of jobs and activities - but spun with the knowledge that we have something so very special to celebrate.

70th Birthday

 

Today I celebrate nativity.

The catalytic effect of chronology illuminated by experience.

Looking into your eyes I catch the sparkle

That took my breath away on a wet evening long ago.

I hold the hand of my greatest friend as we dawdle past the fragrances of early summer;  kids at heart.

I see in you an extraordinary life living and enjoying the moment; basking in the mindfulness of the day.

You have taught me to be present; the joy of spontaneity and the excitement of the moment.

You have offered me love; the intimacy of being what you are not simply showing what you mean

You have patiently taught me to delight in trains, scenery and driving down paths that you insist are county lanes.

And I have made you laugh; dance and fly, but not necessarily in that order.

I join with our family and our friends in delighting in the day you were birthed and all that has come to be.

I raise my cup of tea to an intoxicating teatotaller with the desire to be himself and live his dream.  JEWG

Weaning

I am thoroughly enjoying my chosen status of 'the first days of the rest of my life'.  I have been working on an abstract canvas and it has been surprisingly hard work to get it how I want it.  I have needed to somehow 'listen' to the picture - sit with it and respond so I don't over paint or leave it too soon.  It is a very pleasing process.

I am trying not to feel self-indulgent.  74,000 dead in China doesn't help - but I have to be in my space, doing what I am put on the planet to do.

I have received some brilliant celebrations of my birthday; a school friend sent a card depicting a wonderful painting of a shop named after her!  Another sent a beautifully evocative worship song; another - a witty handmade card designed around a spider's web!  My brother bought me a novel with the subtitle "God is dead.  Now meet the kids!" which I will read when we travel South to see our son.  He also found a wonderful contemporary interpretation in picture book of "The Tragical Comedy of Punch and Judy".  This was a particularly absorbing choice as our Dad, Mum and maternal Grandfather were all skilled pupeteers.  My Dad and Grandfather were both Punch and Judy performers in the traditional mould - and my Dad and Mum were excellent at using a swazzle - the reed which makes the high-pitched Punch-voice.  As a family we could all handle marionettes from toddler age - but Punch - apart from setting out the booth (my job) was very much the 'grown-ups' domain.  Funnily enough I wrote a dissertation on Punch and Judy when I was an undergraduate.  Somewhere I have a copy of Dad's Punch script.  It would be interesting to see whether it has dated - he would have last performed in the mid 1970s.

I have been trying to get a sense of why I suddenly seem to be surfacing after this last mental health relapse.  I remember exactly the same thing happened the last time; it was as if I suddenly woke up - and felt better.  This time I have made some big decisions about how I want to live. For once I intend to take my own advice and live in a way which in-fills and enables me to thrive - for my own sake and not at the expense of any one else.  I am fortunate to have a partner who has courage and knows himself.  That makes any transitional behaviours in me much more manageable.  He isn't trying to pull me back all the time into old ways of relating or doing.

The main difference is that I establish what I need and want before I begin to ask whether it is appropriate to adapt or develop my thinking to include or enable another.  I feel I have energy; humour and a zest for life.  The interesting thing is that the life is still a fully vocational life - but driven by practising what I preach rather than preaching what I long to practice.

Designed for Living

 

Waking to a blue sky and sunshine when it is pouring with rain.

Dressing with a song in my heart, when the post brings bills and the phone demands I concentrate and I lose my socks to a Golden Retriever having fun.

Settling to tasks, with half a mind playing with my imagination and dancing with the angels while my fingers answer e-mails and delete those concerned with primarily with my sexual prowess.

Taking time to be; to rest and enjoy while there are still numerous tasks to be done and calls on my attention,

Knowing it can wait and the ceiling won't, actually, fall down.

 

JEWG

Born to be Free

Happy Birthday to me!

Happy Birthday to me!

Forty-seven today.  The first day of the rest of my life - and I am doing the very best to treat it so.  Claiming my freedom!

I've had a smashing birthday - taken out to lunch by my partner and then attending an art therapy session.  It was hard work in the session as I touched some parts of my story which still feel raw.  I was surprised.  I'm working on an abstract in these sessions in pastels.  You can spot my mood at any one point by how vigorous I have used the colours!!!  Good work though.  Opened some past experiences up for a bit of an airing.

I am struggling with the media reporting on the castrophes in Burma and China.  Having recently finished Hegemony or Survival by Noam Chomsky, I feel my eyes have been opened about how stark globalisation and capitalist interpretations of it really are.  There is no such thing as open-hearted and handed offers of aid and emergency support by western super-powers to regimes that operate a very different social order.  The power differential is wrong for a start - but in addition - there is a justified suspicion about the underlying motivation in such apparent acts of charity.  Having read Hegemony I have a certain sympathy for Burma's Junta in particular wanting to sort it's own internal needs without western 'interference'.  History shows there will always be a moment when a pay-back is required.

The pictures and articles showing so many lives lost have left us all feeling helpless.  Throwing a donation or two at a relief charity or Christian AId - helps assuage some of the guilt and horror - but feels to me, atleast, as a fairly easy gesture; I am left feeling too comfy and untouched somehow by the power and tragic nature of all that has happened.  Some of the reasons why these disasters have been so horrific are due to endemic issues.  Schools built in a possible high risk area with insufficient safety and structural endurance.  Inadequate infrastructure; poor disaster planning; corruption and misappropriation of funds at all levels.  Some of the pain and suffering is caused by aspects of living which are well within human control.

One of my old friends recently died.  She requested donations to her local church youth club - but had she lived and heard news of Burma and China I am sure she wouldn't have minded me remembering her through a donation to these causes instead.  She would probably have accused me of being my usual woolly liberal self.  I will miss her hugely. She would argue on a purely intellectual level the hind leg off a donkey.  We rarely agreed but loved each other all the more for that.

I've missed my mum, Bea, today too.  First birthday without her.  It's funny it's her bossiness I've missed most!  She was always a busy bunny around birthdays whereas my partner and I are hopeless.  We aren't good at the 'say it with cards' stuff and have a very laid back attitude to buying for the sake of having something to give.  I spotted my presents a while ago.  Better to have things I would really love.  Courtesy of on-line shopping I ordered what I wanted.  Not romantic - but great to have the chance to choose.  I am beyond being polite to my partner - and he would much rather I had what I like rather than wore something he had chosen and I felt obligated to wear - like the year he bought a pendant suitable for a size 8 midget - not good - you needed a magnifying glass to find it on my ample breasts.  (Too much information I know - but you see my point).  Still he enjoyed finding it.

I've received some super cards which have made me feel loved and special.  Last night as I prepared for bed I was singing *I'm gonna be born tomorrow, born tomorrow, born tomorrow!"  Sure enough I have been.  I am well enough now to have a choice and I have chosen life; a vocational life which still gives me goose bumps and tingles when I think about it.

I have received some smashing gifts too.  I am intending to raid the art shop in Nairn over the next few days - mostly for canvases.  To me, chosen by me from my partner and me - to me - a Skye Batik smock (coming in the post) with a repair to one of my old ones.  (One of the dogs got to the smock when I had foolishly left dog treats in the front pouch - huge hole as a result).  Skye Batiks have been stars and have darned the hole (a little technical for me - who thinks sewing involves Bostik) and I couldn't resist a new one!  Also a pair of very fetching patchwork trousers.  (I think I am claiming my individuality BIG TIME just now!!!)

SO what are this particular new borns' plans?  To keep evolving a sense of well-being.  Wait for the next invitation or opportunity - they always have come in the past - and I haven't had to go looking before - so I will see what turns up.  Alongside this - a top priority is to increase my social network locally.  Plenty for a pre-toddler to cope with.

I saw a neighbour this afternoon walking another neighbour's dog.  She seemed genuinely pleased to see me out and about and she simply said "Keep it up".  No odes of sympathy or arias of empathy - not even deeply expressed concern - just "Keep it up".  I think that pretty much sums up the present moment and my heartfelt future intent.

Watching and LIstening

I imagine it is me who climbs

to the very peak

and sits alone,

weeping on the hill.

Looking out I can see

The tragedy of life thrust into eternity.

Shattered lives

That leave me help-less

Interred in desperate, guilt-driven platitude;

Yearning to make things better

Yet stultified by the vastness of the task.

Into the void, does not come human comfort.

Into the devastation, dis-ease and un-rest disarm.

In amongst death baleful silence;

The stench of hopefulness dying,

A vision takes shape of a just and safe world.

Where human beings are not valued

By geographic location.

Where any disaster; anywhere - is like a

wound to all our souls.

Where compassion and mercy are the crack squad

Sent to relieve human misery

And clean water and rice are the communion of love

Made known.

Beautiful Day

Just started working up notes on Generation X for a paper later in the summer.  Mmmm. 

Mended curtains in Edmund our caravan with my unique style of invisible needlework - stitching that is so large even I can see it at a distance!!!

Am horribly aware that our gardens looks like a jungle - and must make an effort to clear it a little.  Everything is dancing with health and almost growing as you watch - so I am disinclined to spoil the weeds fun.  (That must be the ultimate liberal position).

Planning a major pilgrimage to the vet.  Bertie - tabby has a tick on his lip; Mungo needs his booster - collie x and my guide dog Rainbow is making smells that have the potential to knock me out at several paces.  Incredible pongs. 

Teazle our older cat has been hugely loving since he spent a week at the cattery.  He has become quite possessive of me - insisting he sleeps next to me on the bed!  During the day - he snuggles with Jo, our collie who 'owns' the duvet once the humans have finished with it.  Amazing sight the two together - touching and snoozing the day away.  I feel quite nostalgic for duvet days.

Perfect for being outside today.  Water catching the light.  Beautiful.  Peaceful.  Extraordinary.

Slices of Life

Recently I was sent some wonderful photos of the French branch of my family.  My partner and I had a good look through them this afternoon and were struck by how many similarities there were between the families.  My cousin is a master engineer we could tell by looking at his photographs of a garden railway layout he has constructed.

My son feels blood relationships are stongest.  I think they are distinctive and there is no doubt I understand my identity within a context which is a group of people who share similar DNA.  However, I feel I am who I am because of my experience - and so those I have chosen to share life with have profoundly influenced the person I am becoming.  Blood relationships are a very real benchmark for me but I feel they are just the beginning of the journey.  Becoming fully myself is a life long activity, aided and occasionally abetted - or perhaps reflected by friends, wider family and Life.

In the photographs I saw the essence of Wallman identity.  A passion for construction; creativity; love of animals; attention to detail - almost to an autistic level of engagement; tenaciousness - and love of a natural environment; introversion; a certain self-awareness.

In my heart I know that how I have interpreted this blue print in  all I have done with the raw materials.  Within this context genes are less important than mutual respect and care.  For all that - still fascinating to see when something is nature and not nurture.

The Routine of LIfe

Routine.

I am establishing one.  This is key to managing my anxiety and mood.

I have been reading a book about hegemony and feel a certain empathy with the military regime in Burma's decision not to take aid unquestioningly from potentially hostile, western superpowers.  Can aid ever be an open handed act with no strings attached? 

It is the time of the funeral of an old friend as I write.  I am at home - the funeral is in the South of England.  She asked for donations to a local Christian Youth Club.  I hope she won't mind that I would very much like to send a donation in her memory to the Burma relief fund.  Somehow the immensity of this tragedy is almost impossible to grasp.  The slightly emotionally detached style of reporting has also made it feel as though it isn't entirely relevant to our every day lives.  I am caught by the human loss; the waste - and the fear of a junta - sure that they will be undermined by western affluence and influence.  Human life is increasingly politicised - it is no longer about giving a bowl of rice and a plastic sheet - each person has a value to the more powerful economies.  Burmese people do not carry the same worth as Tsunami victims - that much is already apparent.

Routine

Face the fear

Talk to the face

The hand's too aggitated.

Face the fear.

Routine is the crutch;

Enables you to walk the road of anxiety.

Going out is the therapy;

Just listen to the humdrumming.

Be present and don't falter;

You are seeking for a healing-ness in time.

Face the fear

You will not be bored

You are sewing up your inwardness.

Face the fear - just get up and walk the line.

JEWG

Penetcost

Pentecost

Come, Wisdom,

Swoop and quiver on the wing;

'Til I catch your call

and halt; scanning the air

hearing your whisper,

longing to catch a fleeting glimpse:

to translate your insight into life-care.

Come, Intuition,

My heart's desire

And warm the emptiness of soul's love spent.

Thaw my meanness of spirit - fear

And guide me as I learn once more to repent.

JEWG

Another Day Another Country

Back after The Great Adventure.  Our foster daughter was married in a moving ceremony surrounded by those who love her.  It was smashing to meet our latest grandchild -a nine month old baby boy - who looks very much like our son - his Uncle.  Enjoyed re-connecting with a familiar area.  Went to see an old friend and spent a good day with my brother-in-law.

Several parts of my brain made new - or perhaps refreshed - old connections.  I very suddenly remembered I am a priest to the core.  It was a very great gift of insight given by an old friend.  I realised the huge difference between grieving so deeply for not being able to exercise a priestly ministry and feeling I no longer want or believe in such ministry.  My religious journey is always going to be reflected in a tension between faith in ultimate good, compassion and mercy - and a huge range of open, inconclusive, work in progress thoughts about the out-working of belief in an institutional form.  I reconnected with the reason why I feel ordination is in some sense ontological - I was transformed by the experience of caring.  My persepctive was altered.  I need to remember that when I find it hard to accept care from others.

I returned to some old haunts.  Our son wanted to drive past the Church where I had omce been Vicar.  I felt a warm pang of nostalgia - but no great desire to disrupt the Ascension Day Service by going in.  My son had many memories too.  He felt a sense of connection with the place.

Visiting the town where I was Curate and then going to favourite day off beauty spots was a whistle stop tour of one, important past chapter.  I have a strong yearning to be more active as a priest - but the spiritual soul friend in me wonders if this is more about a deep desire to belong.  The friend in me says "Does it matter?  The point is you have a sense of something you would like".

The real problem is my current location.  The options just aren't here.  Or maybe I'm not an option.

Harder the last few days.  I've been taking higher doses of medication with excellent results.  The last day or so - despite the increase in medication I seem to have been back in a highly agitated state.  I couldn't get my head around why.  Fortunately the duty CPN has done a brilliant job at reassuring me - and I am now trying a higher dose again.

I loved it when I first hit the higher dose because my two contrasting internal voices were under control and I felt I could make myself heard - and practised good self-care.  It was such a shock when they returned suddenly on the way to art therapy.  When they whoosh in like that I feel as though I am being knocked over and forced to comply against my will.  Yesterday in bed.  Today up - but I feel as though my head resembles a Greek Tragic Chorus - commentating on my every action.

Probably need to snooze for a bit.

Death of a Friend

Eyes met and in a shattered, shard of a split second

Two worlds collided, embraced and danced the almost forgotten reason for living.

Both knew this breath and glimpse of hope would be your last in the narrowest of dimensions.

In touching our spirits entwine momentarily;

You have no need

of the tired, failing body which once grew your soul

to such dizzy heights of knowledge, intuition and harmony.

In being there, I have no need for rumination simply the symbolic signing off and thanksgiving with the cross of life on your passing skin.

For you epitomise freedom to be and I sense you

reminding me in the scent of flower

and the animal shufflings in the undergrowth that all manner of things are,

in the blinking of the eternal eye,

remarkably well - all things considered

All manner of things.

Are well.

JEWG