The Wise Woman’s Stone

Tags

awareness, beggar, Christmas, coin, communication, compassion, gift, giving, hungry, money, precious stone, security, self-knowledge, stone, therapy, traveller, wisdom

Lately I find I having been giving a lot. I don’t know whether I am especially aware of this because it is the season for giving, or if something has triggered something deeper within me. But I think the act of giving, whether it is in recognition of a celebration, ie a birthday, charity, a good cause, Christmas or something like that is actually beneficial to the soul. I personally feel such joy and contentment when giving or sharing that I’m sure that internally, physically there is a way the body responds by removing toxins and releases feel good chemicals which flood the body and in turn makes you feel much healthier. You can probably tell that this is my own clumsily conveyed take on what giving means for me. I don’t make any claims to expert scientific knowledge.

Earlier this year, someone approached me telling me that he had to get to work and he had no money for his fare to get there. He said he had seen me, and that he had thought about it a long time, and he knew that I looked like a ‘kind lady’ and that I would help him. After much questioning, I gave him some money to get to work for the whole week. He thanked me profusely and bestowed many blessings upon me. I did wonder if he was genuine, but I thought if he is trying to con money out of me, then that is his problem and not mine. I felt better for giving and helping someone who I believed needed help. I like to think that if I had been in the same position, help would be forthcoming.

Two days ago at the train station, a beggar approached me, dirty, dirty clothing, in need of care and attention and I gave him some money. He had run up to me hand outstretched as I stood in the queue at a cake shop. I had a few bags and had to shift them around to get into my handbag to find my purse. He stood waiting patiently, hand still outstretched while I tried to get my money out. He had no idea if I was going to give him any money at all because I did not say anything, just rustled around with my bags. I eventually found my purse which had some change (lots of pennies) and one shiny £2 coin which I had been saving and did not want to spend because it was so shiny. Call it one of my foibles! I had no other change (apart from some notes), so I gave him my shiny coin which had been in my purse for months, while I broke into pound notes in order not to spend it. So you can see how much it meant to me. I gave the beggar/homeless person the coin which he eagerly took, blessed me considerably and ran off into the crowd. I felt good. I didn’t even mind about giving him that particular coin.

I discovered this story around Easter time, this year. I was actually looking for something else on the Internet, but came across this and it resonated with me. I hope it does the same for you.

The Wise Woman’s Stone

A wise woman who was traveling in the mountains found a precious stone in a stream. The next day she met another traveler who was hungry, and the wise woman opened her bag to share her food. The hungry traveler saw the precious stone and asked the woman to give it to him. She did so without hesitation. The traveler left, rejoicing in his good fortune. He knew the stone was worth enough to give him security for a lifetime. But a few days later he came back to return the stone to the wise woman.

“I’ve been thinking,” he said, “I know how valuable the stone is, but I give it back in the hope that you can give me something even more precious. Give me what you have within you that enabled you to give me the stone.

~”The Wise Woman’s Stone” ♥
Author Unknown

The Irish Question: Part 2: Jenny M*, Jenny C* and Me

Tags

anxiety, birthday, birthday gift, character, children, creativity, disappointment, emotion, friendship, life lessons, love, palpable, poverty, retrospect, school girls, struggking, symbolic, trust

Jenny C

I never imagined as a pupil at John D Primary school ever writing about two of my classmates in years to come. It didn’t occur to me that at the time I was learning valuable life lessons. It is only now in retrospect that I see how important it is to value every thing that life throws at you, however painful. There is wisdom in looking carefully and profoundly at certain events which colour one’s life and paint the picture that is your life. To relegate disappointments to the dustbin of life is to throw away pearls. Pearls are not always beautifully shaped and formed when they are discovered: much goes into the process of refining them so that they become a beautiful adornment. You may wish to wear them or you may wish to lock them away in a vault, but either way, their beauty is evident and can never be lost.

Jenny M taught me about human frailty, loyalty and trust. Jenny C taught me about humility, friendship, gentleness and creativity, and ultimately the act of giving. Now these two shared the same Christian name, but apart from that they differed physically and in their characters. I still recall Jenny M’s brilliant emerald green eyes and raven black hair. She was a very pretty girl and I can only imagine that she would become stunningly beautiful. Jenny C was blonde, blue eyed and not at first obviously pretty, but there was beauty in her genuine smile and those innocent blue eyes. The two were such opposites: light and dark, soft and gentle (JC), tough and a go-getter (JM), both were my friends. Interestingly I see myself in all their characteristics and that could be why I gravitated to them and they to me.

Jenny C taught me about the act of giving and receiving. It was my 11th birthday. When Jenny C found out that it was my birthday she said she had a present at home to give me. I became excited at the prospect of this, wondering what the gift could possibly be. All sorts of things went through my mind and I eagerly awaited the gift. But days went by and there was no gift forthcoming. I became disappointed, then anxious, and finally embarrassed. It was obvious that Jenny C had been untruthful about the gift she had bought me. Each day, for over the course of a week she would come in and not quite meeting my expectant eyes offer up an excuse why she hadn’t been able to bring the gift into school.

It came to the point where I tried in my own way to let her know that I understood that she had made a promise that she was not able to keep. By the end of maybe the second week I had long given up hope of ever receiving anything from her, and I sensed in her something that I couldn’t quite articulate. It was as if she thought so highly of me that she wanted my friendship and she wanted to be able to give me something that would be a symbol of the esteem in which she held me. These are my adult thoughts on the matter and my interpretation of her actions. This is what I felt aged 11, but I would never have been able to put it into words.

Then one Friday, she asked if I could follow her home to pick up the gift as she had forgotten to bring it with her to school. She didn’t live too far away from school and I could go around to her home and get the gift and still be home by the time I was expected home. So I followed her to her house and we entered her bedroom after having greeted her mother. It became obvious that her mother was not very well off and was a single parent. But then neither was my family well off – at the time we were living in two rooms at the top of my uncle’s house.
Jenny C placed the carefully wrapped present in my hands. It was wrapped in what looked like tissue paper and tied with string. I opened it. Inside were some shells, some pebbles and some coloured beads with a small piece of paper on which was written birthday greetings to me. My disappointment was palpable. I didn’t know that at the time as I didn’t know the word ‘palpable’ but having learned it now, I look back and realise that was how I felt.

I had the good grace to offer up a weak smile and thank her very much and off home I went with the gift which I looked at once more when I got home disdainfully before putting it somewhere. I don’t think I looked at it ever again. It is only now through adult eyes that I treasure that gift and how much trouble Janet C had gone to, to give me something to show how important I was to her. In my childish expectant way, I had looked for something which she plainly could not give me. She had no money. Her mother was plainly struggling. She had the creative sense to put together some stones, beads and shells – all she had, tie them up with string and to give them to me with love.

How often is something given to us, something precious, not costing the earth in terms of monetary value, but symbolically valuable? How do we receive the gift of love? And do we recognise it when we see it? Now as an adult I see how precious that gift from Jenny C was. What a contrast to Jenny M’s gift?

Summing up, both gifts were valuable in terms of learning. I have learned that trust needs to be earned and not given away and that precious gifts do not have to cost money. It’s not the gift that is important, it is the act of giving and what it symbolises to me.

~ Marie Williams 2016

* Jenny M and Jenny C are not their real names.

The Irish Question: Jenny M*, Jenny C* and Me.

Tags

acceptance, betrayal, dinner lady, embarrassment, friendship, Ireland, Irish, life lessons, refusal, school dinner, scool, trust

Warning: this post contains language which may offend.

“The truth is, everyone is going to hurt you. You just got to find the ones worth suffering for”. – Bob Marley

 

Jenny M

This story has very little to do with politics or Ireland, but it features memories of a time when I was a school girl many years ago. And the reason I have decided to talk about it is because it threw up a very important lesson about friendship for me at a time when lessons were being learned continually, but of course, the effect of a lesson learned in childhood does not have the poignancy of a lesson learned and reflected on when one is much older.

What actually happened was this: As a ten year old, I became friends with Jenny M who was a lovely Irish girl. She was bright and funny and smart. What I did not know at the time was that Jenny M would betray me and our friendship with little thought to the consequences. Now as ten year olds, if you cast your mind back, what is the most important thing to a child? My answer would be, finding solidarity with someone likeminded, feeling a sense of belonging, being accepted and being happy. Unless you’re far more advanced than your years, and you aspire to greater things, just knowing that there is someone in the class room and the playground who you can identify with goes a long way to feeling at peace in your own small world.

It was lunch time, and we were queuing for our lunch. Imagine: noisy, boisterous girls and boys, a dinner hall, buzzing with chatter and laughter. China and cutlery clinking against the backdrop of hungry children, released from classes and lessons, not silenced by the need to conform. Individuality coming to the fore, wanting to impress, wanting to assert their sense of who they are, vying for attention, perhaps a little confused about their place in the world, but on a huge learning curve.

The school dinner lady (one of say 2 or three others) was serving the meal. I don’t know how hungry Jenny M was, (she may not have had breakfast that morning) but she boldly asked for three sausages. The Irish dinner lady refused saying that Jenny M was only allowed two. Jenny was upset, angry, embarrassed that she had asked but had not received. She turned to me, and whispered: “The Irish c*w!” and swearing me to secrecy: “Don’t tell her I said so!”.

Wanting to be a good friend, shy, wanting Jenny’s approval and feeling accepted and part of a great confidence, I smiled, shook my head, and promised not to repeat what she had said.
Several days later, the incident still fresh in my mind, Jenny M and I were in the school playground and I can’t remember the exact thing that happened, but it involved the Irish dinner lady. Thinking that I had a good friend and confidante, I approached Jenny M and told her what happened. Believing that she was a true friend I repeated her words: “…the Irish c*w!” And asked Jenny, as she had asked me not so long ago not to tell Mrs I.

So what did Jenny M do? She promptly went straight to Mrs I, our Irish dinner lady and said: “Miiissss …Marie said that you are an Irish c*w”. Mortified, I could hardly believe what I heard and saw. This supposedly good friend had betrayed me with little thought as to how I would feel, and how much she had betrayed our friendship.

Of course I was hauled to the Headmaster’s office and I was duly reprimanded. But that day I learned a very important lesson as a 10 year old. Be careful who you put your trust in. In a way it was a
good lesson, painful yes, but it stood me in good stead for the rest of my life. At the time, I had no words for how I felt. I think I forgave Jenny M. Now, looking back, clearly this incident impacted me and the way I view others. Was Jenny a real friend? Should we factor into friendships, the possibility that a friend is capable of betrayal and should we take into account what may/may not have been going on in their life at the time of betrayal. And is betrayal ever something that can be forgiven if there were extenuating circumstances? As 10 year olds – do we know who we really are and do we have the maturity to be a true friend?

I will have to speak about the other Jenny in part 2 of ‘The Irish Question’.

~ Marie Williams  2016

 

*Jenny M and Jenny C are not their real names.

The Flowering Vine: A Letter to Our White Great-Grandfather

Tags

ancestry, black, colour, family, granddaughter, great grandfather, impact, inspiration, legacy of slavery, letter, life, mixed-race, offspring, reflections, relationships, white, Writing

Wow Lady G! What an amazing letter to your white grandfather. I don’t know if I could have worded this as well to my own white great, great grandfather, so can I say I echo your sentiments?
Thank you for sharing, this is so bitter-sweet…

False Smiles, False Conversation

Tags

communication, etiquette, life-lesson, manners, poem, poetry, pretense, respect, self-knowledge, twenty four/seven, vampire

I didn’t like him and he didn’t like me.  That much we understood.  But in order to allow life to run smoothly and not to upset the apple-cart, we pretended that we did like each other.  False smiles, false conversation.  Empty words and empty laughter.  He’d been visiting for a while and I thought she could’ve done better for herself.  Where on earth had she found him?  I called him “The Vampire”.  He only appeared at night after 12.00.  What did he do during daylight hours?  He was very busy I was told.  His busy-ness left me cold.  Sounds to me like a tale of old: she wasn’t that important, but during the night when he was less busy, he could accommodate her.  Not good enough I’m afraid.

And so the story unfolds.  I liked him no better and he liked me no better but things came to a head one night when at a quarter to one he decided to visit.  “Hiyoualright?”  As he slinked upstairs and caught me in the light on the landing.  I think it was meant to be “Hi., how are you?”  But it was a quarter to one and I hadn’t set my vampire clock and was not pleased at all.  No answer came from me, caught as I was in my unsociable attire, where do you think you are going at this time of night, outraged sensibility.

Vexation all around and hurt feelings abound.  Hasty exits and another deposit in the bank of “what’s her problem?”.  And when I’ve calmed down, I try to make amends.  Try to bring it back to false smiles, false conversation, empty words and empty laughter.  The conversation does not go well.  “About the other night … I don’t really like you to visit at unsociable hours… this upset me … would prefer it if you didn’t do that”.  Back came the reply: “You’re unsociable”.  “You’ve never made me feel welcome in your home”.  “Whose fault is it that I’ve been coming here for over one year and you have never tried to get to know me better?”  Followed by: “I don’t care what you think.  You called me, I never called you, so get off the ‘phone”.  Could it have got worse?  Clearly it did.  Now, no false smiles, false conversation, empty words and empty laughter.

 

Lesson

Have respect for others.  Respect their lives and how they choose to live.  Do not presume that because you are on a 24/7 schedule, they are too and if they are not, they are unsociable and unwelcoming.  Try to meet somewhere in the middle and never ever try to justify bad behaviour by blaming the other person  for your own bad behaviour.

~MEW

 

 

 

 

Stronger

Tags

communication, harmony, healing, hurt, inspiration, journey, love, metaphor, Oprah Winfrey, peace, power, prose poetry, self-knowledge, therapy, tranquility

Yesterday I started to read Oprah Winfrey’s “What I Know for Sure”, and I found it “Bible-like”. It’s a good book to keep close by to refer to on life’s journey. It is full of truth, authenticity, guidance, self-love, love for others and wisdom.

The cover of the book is beige and green and it has an oak tree on it. The oak tree is a symbol for me of faithfulness and strength. Its sturdy trunk is rooted and unshakeable, and a place where I can rest my body if and when I need to. It wont collapse with my weight. It will stand firm and hold me up. Its girth will give me a sense of stability – something like when you are a small child and you run to your mother and put your arms around her. Your arms never quite reach to clasp, but that solidity and warmth, comfort and reassure you.

I am feeling fine today. I meditated for a while. I am getting stronger each day. I feel loved and wanted and special. Not knowing what the future will bring for me does not scare me. I am grateful for my breath, my body and my ability to write. These gifts are precious. They are worth more than gold, but I will not lock them away in a vault of fear, for fear that they will be stolen from me. I will display them and trust that they will stay. I will take these gifts, treasure them and hold fast to them.

~ MEW

Value

Tags

companionship, devastation, devotion, elderly couple, faithfulness, instinct, lessons, love, resourcefulness, story, survival, values, war

Picture this: A war-torn area. Devastation. A few houses scattered about – some inhabited, others very clearly empty of all human traces save for a shoe, some well-used pots and pans, a plate, evidence of a very simple cooking device: two hotplates long abandoned.

An elderly couple have not left their home because they are too afraid to do so. He worries that if he leaves to go into town, he may be shot, or harmed in some way, or he may not be able to return to his home where his wife waits for him to return. So he stays. They stay. They grow vegetables in their yard and they get eggs from their chickens. All their neighbours have either been killed, have left hurriedly taking only what they could, or they too stay, hidden away where they cannot be found – surviving.

The elderly couple, smiling the smile of survivors. Faithfully trusting in instinct and each other. The reporter says to the man, how much does this woman mean to you. The man looks at the woman and smiles, smiling the smile of love and devotion. The woman, her beautiful wrinkles surrounding her twinkling eyes, twinkling eyes which have known love and devotion in equal measures.

He says, his voice cracking and eyes moistened by tears: “We have been together for 51 years. How can I explain in words how much she means to me?” She squeezes his hand.

Amongst the devastation of war, there is hope. There is a valuable lesson here for those who wish to learn it.

~ MEW

Ask and you will receive.

Tags

asking, finding, grudges, ignorance, letting go, loss, moral, pettiness, receiving, trivialities, true story

Ask and you will receive

This is just a true story about two people and how we let trivial matters impact our lives, so we miss out on really good things.

Someone (I will call her Jenny)told me about an incident at her place of work and when I thought about the story, I felt I wanted to share it because there was an important lesson here.

Jenny and person (b) whom I shall call Susie were at work and apparently they had some sort of disagreement. It was over something petty: about how many nappies one person had changed for the day, compared to the other person. It wasn’t life-threatening. It wasn’t a betrayal. It was simply one person feeling agrieved over how much work she thought she was doing, compared to another. Jenny thought they had aired their grievances and the matter was done and dusted. She was surprised the next day, when she said “good morning” to Susie and Susie pretended she didn’t hear and ignored her.

Later that day, Susie lost her favourite pen and was searching high and low for it. When she couldn’t locate it, she enlisted the help of some of her other colleagues. She asked everyone in the office, bar Jenny because of course, she wasn’t talking to Jenny because of the incident the previous day.

Nobody had seen Susie’s precious pen apart from Jenny who could see that the pen had rolled under a desk in front of where she was sitting. Susie continued to search and was plainly distressed about her loss, but refused to ask Jenny if she had seen it. So Jenny kept quiet and didn’t tell her where the pen was.

I think this is really sad. Had Susie let yesterday’s altercation go, she would have lost her pen, but it wouldn’t have been lost for long. I’m sure I don’t need to tell you the moral of this story, but doesn’t it echo (quite loudly!) how we should put things into perspective?

Nothing is ever truly lost if you ask for help in the right places!

~ MEW

Versatile Blogger Award

Tags

blogging, marie williams, nominations, things about myself, Versatile Bloggers Award, wordpress

Versatile Blogger Award

I am only just getting around to accepting the Versatile Blogger Award. Better late than never, as they say!

I am grateful to Cheryle of the Lightwalkers Blog http://lightwalker1.wordpress.com for nominating me for the Versatile Blogger Award. Cheryle is trained in Reiki, Spiritual Healing, Intuitive Flower reading, Reflexology, Ear Candeling, Samatha Meditation. Her interests include: writing, baking, poetry, painting, photography, gardening and many other creative endeavours evidence of which are wonderfully displayed on her blog .

The Rules for accepting the Versatile Blogger Award are as follows:

1) Thank the person who nominated you and link back to their site.

2) Tell 7 things about yourself

3) Nominate 15 bloggers

4) Link to their sites and let them know of the nomination.

Tell 7 things about yourself

1) I have lived in a house where there was so much paranormal activity it scared me and I was forced to move.

2)I have seen an angel.

3)I don’t like sleeping in the dark.

4)I don’t like heights and flying.

5) I took my driving test 7 times before passing on the final attempt.

6) I love being by the sea

7) One of my favourite films is “Cabaret” starring Liza Minnelli.

Nominations

I’m not going to nominate 15 bloggers because most of the blogs that I love and follow are done by established bloggers who already have a huge following and already have awards. Some of them prefer not to accept awards. What I will do is list some of the blogs that I have read recently and which I think are absolutely worth a visit. And they are as follows:

1. http://eclecticoddsnsods.com

2. http://33580laborde.wordpress.com

3. http://rubyspolaroid.wordpress.com

4. http://badfish2.wordpress.com

5. http://lovehappynotes.wordpress.com

6. http://itsphblog.wordpress.com

7. http://bkmoore.wordpress.com

8. http://darlenescorner.wordpress.com

9. http://akansha1104.wordpress.com

10. http://johannamassey.wordpress.com

11. http://poemsandpoemes.wordpress.com

12. http://lilstreet.wordpress.com

~ Marie E. Williams

Purple Tree

Tags

awareness, beauty, compassion, creativity, flowers, harmony, healing, inspire, loss, purple flowers, sadness, tranquility

Pain and loss are an inevitable part of life. Sometimes when we are grieving for the loss of what we see as a valuable part of our lives, we are blinded to the beauty that is the backdrop to circumstances beyond our control. My friend has a tree in her garden which delivers the most beautiful purple flowers in the spring/summer time. These flowers are mesmerising whilst proudly displaying themselves on their branches. You cannot fail to be struck by their beauty. One year, we had a particularly gusty month of May and sadly, the next morning after a very windy night, purple petals lay strewn all around on a carpet of green. I was touched by the loss of the leaves so soon, but could not fail to see the beauty of the pattern the petals had formed on the grass. This led to me see that there is beauty in every situation if we look for it.

Purple Tree

I hope our purple tree
wasn’t too traumatised
by the actions of the Mighty Wind
and the Goddess of the Trees!
A carpet of purple petals sounds very alluring,
and I hope our purple tree recognised
that sometimes losing
its petals maybe painful,
But it can be beautiful
to the beholder’s eye.

~MEW