Learning to laugh at myself!

WERE YOU AT MY FUNERAL? I cannot explain the issues that I have with a freshly picked bunch of roses delivered to my door or the apologetic mumble after a runaway comment has left someones lips. I also cannot seem to merge mentally with having to remind someone to say thank you or the explanations I have to give regarding my personal preferences.  I have one life . . . as ME, that is . . . and who knows after that! But heaven, aliens and the abyss aside, that one life is precious! Because I have cast it into the 'Precious' - not useful and not valuable - but 'Precious' basket, it requires some tender loving care.  And so I had a think the other day about my funeral. I am able minded and consciously fluid enough to go most places with my thoughts and so my own funeral was not daunting nor was it sad.  It was horrendous . . . I saw streams of tearful mourners bringing roses and flowers that once lived. I saw sad faces that seemed bewildered and ...

A TOUCH OF REVERENCE 'I know that blogs are supposed to be written and released as per a set number of social and business rules. I know that blogs must pander to specific needs and meet certain criteria. I know that blogs should hit the button of trending topics and that opinions should be a large part of the content. I know all of this . . . And so I am a drifter - A person who meanders away from where the crowds are. I meander because I search for signs of something elusive yet inexplicable. Like a rare butterfly, in a garden carefully crafted, to invite normal average people in. People, who want to look but not touch, take but not observe, keep to the beaten path and avoid the grass getting in-between their toes. I meander off the concrete pathways that hold the rules and I walk on the wet grass, sometimes incautiously just missing a beetle. Sometimes, I stumble through the foliage and find a glade that is hidden from sight – hidden from ...

24/03/2018 LEAN ON ME Crutch Pledge "I will be there so that you can lean upon me, I will help you to forget the days of your splendour, And I will take the burden from your weary limbs, So that I am all that you need or want." "For I am the crutch that you turned to when you could not cope and I found my way insidiously into your field of hope. I offered you my services and made sure that they could not come at a better time. I saw that once you had a hold of me, you could not let me go and I felt wanted and needed. In fact, I felt so needed that I knew that we were inseparable and that you would rather die than be without me. I made sure that I never let you down and when all else failed, I could at least help you to forget the pain, trauma, heartache and loneliness. I became your only friend and in those dark days, I fed your every need by diminishing all your needs into one crucial one - me ! With me, you no longer needed to take care of ...

17/03/2018 THEY COME FROM BEYOND! The interplay between LISTEN and SILENT is quite profound. It is no accident that two words, with the same letters, reflect a message of extreme value - no make that . . . 'worth'. I have pondered the idea of 'listening' for decades and reasonably thought that it was the sounds of passing traffic, the nagging of a distraught shopper, the cries of love or the helpless pleas of a condemned person. Amidst all the sounds that a person can hear during the day and at night, I felt that there was something missing . . . something that was untouched. And it would remain that way until I had discovered how to truly listen in the silence. A journey of prayer, meditation, contemplation and stillness, brought me to an edge that was close to what I was feeling existed on the other side of the sun (or somewhere called eternity).  But Prayer came with expectations . It came with asking and frustration, wanting and needing, despe...

06/03/2018 CRUMBS! TOSS LIFE ASIDE Once in a while . . . an awful long while . . . we run into the rain and forget that we are about to get wet, our feet are going to be muddied, our clothes clingy and revealing and our hair is going to look plastered. It is in those very rare and pictorial moments that we touch the insane and the wonderment, the bizarre and free and we shrug off the mundane thoughts of day to day living. These times do more than that however - They cast aside the humdrum, ever-watchful mannerisms and behaviours which keep us trudging along the same paths, down the same habitual actions and responses.  These moments touch something that is sacred. In these delightful ' forgettingnesses ' of organised life, a precious presence watches from the corner of our eye . . . from the periphery of our normal existence. It watches, hidden but hoping to dance and join in.  The walls that we build from young children, are brick by brick cemented into...