Approval

Tags

acceptance of self, analogy, approval, birth, control, definition, denial, dictionary, family, guilt, mental health, metaphor, seeking approval, self-love, shame, siblings

Why do we seek approval?  Should we pay for it, and how much should we pay?  Is it cost effective, and if it is not why do we urgently seek it out, and if it is, why is it that it seems that there is not enough of it to go around?  Approval, how about we strike it from the dictionary completely and see if it is missed, and then contemplate the lives that have been affected by this word, a word which in itself begs for the very thing it may deny others.

As soon as we are born, although we do not know it, are not aware of it, we become the subject of approval: to be thought well of, commend, authorise, so the definition says, and that stays with us, weaving its way through our lives, lives depending on it, lives failing by it, lives denied by it, lives controlled by it, lives foiled by it, lives sadly wiped out by it.

We require approval from our parents from a very early age, and at that stage it makes us feel. Feelings and approval: cousins, sisters, brothers, it cannot be denied, these two are related and like siblings, first cousins, step children, they do not always get along.  They tussle, they squabble, they fight, they vie for parental affection, believing that they are the first among equals.  But sadly this is not so, because as we know, no parent loves one sibling more than the other.  Or so they lead us to believe.  But we know, approval tells us so!

Later on, when we are older, bolder, approval hangs around like a boulder: huge, solid, unmovable, it dictates the way we should go.  Approved of, we feel nurtured, loved and accepted.  Disapproval on the other hand, based on faulty premises, leaves us feeling like orphans, un-loved, un-accepted, lacking, unseen, in some cases, guilty and ashamed.

We need approval.  It appears to be essential for a life well lived.  But in order to live a life with no regrets, the only approval worth investing in, is the approval we give ourselves.  Let’s keep that word in the dictionary and approve its existence but with the proviso that it includes not only approval from others, but above all approval from ourselves for ourselves in order to live our best life.

~Marie Williams 2016

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We write to “right”, right?

Tags

birth, communication, creativity, death, emotion, expression, fears, harmony, healing, journey, life, poetry, struggle, words, Writing

When we need to feel the way we think we ought to feel, what’s the first thing we look for? We grab a pen and a sheet of paper and we mark that piece of paper with the deep stirrings of our heart. Feelings felt are emotional words which will not rest. Restless, they birth in the mind’s womb, children of (sometimes) unequal bedfellows. Having nothing in common save a lust for life and life at its best, not a life of struggle or unrest. And who does not want to live a life free from encumbrance of sadness, sickness, greed and grief? A life that meanders along a lane of lasting twists and turns and leads you lonely, lost and drowned in sorrows which forever abound.

Those children words in infancy come screaming, raw and red. They hit the paper with a bump. When washed free of literary placenta, they open their eyes and survey their surroundings: their parents if they are fortunate to have two, sigh with relief that they have all their fingers and their toes. They do not dress them in pink or blue, lemon or white they find will do. Those words, those precious longed for words, those words which never required IVF, fertilized by need, born to succeed, they speak the depths of the human heart. They utter the joy, they express delight, they sometimes quarrel noisily and fight. But each and every word that’s born to parents of their need to perform the seemingly endless tasks that life requires is always thankful their child was born.

We write to right the wrongs. We write to speak of our delight. We write to fight. We write for peace. We write to rally our battle cries. We write to herald birth. We write to make a friend of death. We write to champion life.

~ MEW 2016

Time

Tags

birth, concept, death, Ecclesiates 3, expectations, Father Time, healer, human experience, journey, letting go, mother, purpose, season, time

Time in essence ethereal yet so solid it reigns supreme. It has its own place in its own kingdom and rarely a day passes without mention of the time. Time to go; time to get ready. Time to wake up; time to go to sleep. An expression of impatience: “She’s been with us for almost a year now, it’s time she got used to us”. Thoughts voiced aloud by a mother who didn’t understand her small daughter and thought time was all that was needed to bridge the gap between leaving her child and getting to know her years later. Time the great healer: time has no emotions. It doesn’t know that it has been imbued with healing qualities by mankind and that it sometimes falls short of expectations when it doesn’t deliver.

Time was, when the grass was greener, when men were gentlemen, when times were better, and men treated their women like women should be treated. Time was when children were better behaved. Time: this hazy, glowing picture of perfection. a picture portraying ideals which never really existed. More like a mirage, an oasis contrived by the desperate thirst-filled individual painstakingly making his way to the illusion of water.

Time raised to immortality in Ecclesiastes 3: “To everything there is a season, time for every purpose under heaven”. Time is of the essence it has been said. Time waits for no man, that too we’ve heard. Father Time, a respected figure: but why no “Mother Time”: was there only room for you? Could the two not reign side by side?

Time passes, ride on time, time to let things go, haven’t you noticed the time? Time goes so slowly. Time can do so much. So much responsibility has been attributed to this word used almost daily, sometimes casually without much thought and at other times with such reverence that it is a wonder how it encapsulates so much of the human experience from birth to death.

A timely post you might ask? Only time will tell …

~ MEW