The Community Associations’ Winter Carnival 2016

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awareness, Cheryle. Lightwalker's Blog, children, comfort zone., communication, creativity, friendship, harmony, In light and love, inspiration, reflections, relationships

Sometimes, Cheryle, experiences outside of our ‘comfort zone’ can be the most inspiring experiences. It’s taken me many years to learn this as I’m shy, reserved, quiet and a little bit unsociable :))), but I find when I make the effort to do something which is unsettling, I derive great pleasure and a sense of achievement which (sometimes) spurs me on to get involved in other uncomfortable places. Thank you for sharing.

Lightwalkers Blog

Today was a day filled with children and activities definitely outside my comfort zone.  Today the Community Association held its Winter Carnival.  Today I played with children of all ages. Some were three and some were eleven and the others were all the ages in-between.

Yes, I helped out at the colouring contest table sponsored by the Ogden Seniors 50+ Activity Club.  We had a multitude of Christmas pictures to colour, crayons, and prizes to be won.  The kids lined up at our table excited to spend a few minutes shading stockings, wreaths, and Christmas trees with the waxy crayons. A chance to win a five dollar McDonalds gift card was an easy enticement for many of the young people tagging along behind their Mom or Dad as they wandered from booth to booth.  Alone in their zone, they chatted quietly about their schools, their ages, their siblings and in some…

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International Women’s Day 2017: Woman

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cherry, creativity, dance, doctor, femininity, International Women's Day, lawyer, March 8th, sashay, street cleaner, style, unity, women, world

Source: Google

WOMAN

Woman rise free and strong
Don’t be subservient to a world all wrong
A world that says stay home and imitate a bee
The busy, busy worker bee

No! Woman you are wise, mighty and free
Free to be an amazing tool
Free to rule in whatever capacity
You choose to decree

That’s not to say
We rise and lose our femininity
It is to say, we stand proud
And claim our rightful place in society

A worker bee is simply that
A powerful creature in its own right
And so we don’t denigrate that little mite, but own
The premise that each creature

Stakes its place in time and space
So women of the world unite
And take a bite of that cherry
Taste and see how sweet

Sashay and move those dancing feet
We don’t need to run a home to
Show that this is our rightful place
We can choose to be whatever

We want to be or do
Doctor, lawyer, street cleaner
Creativity comes from within
It is divine and it’s your right

See that cherry – go ahead and bite!
Succulent and sweet its taste
Tarry for a while
Don’t haste

Woman you dictate your style!

© Marie Williams 2009

“It’s Good to Talk …”

Tags

awareness, compassion, counselling, counsellor, creativity, emotion, fears, healing, journey, Julius caesar, letting go, mental health, mind, opportunity, pain, self-knowledge, therapy

Image: Courtesy of TheCrazyBagLady

HEALING HURT
(Talking Therapy)

In moments of pure fantasy
And wild imagination
I fancy that Karen could be
Just distantly
Related to Julius!

But I’m rudely awakened
And snap back to reality
As beaming, in black she beckons me
To her small but cosy surgery

Karen Caesar sees me as
Her work in progress
She’s dedicated to releasing
And decreasing the pressure

That calls me religiously
Each fortnight on a Friday
To discuss with some intensity
The demons that bind me

For Karen Caesar
Explained her calling
At the end of a session
Which begged me to question

The degree of her ability
To address the responsibility
Of dealing with healing
The complexity of the human psyche

Karen Caesar tells me
That caring seized her
From a very young age
And at the stage

Where she felt that
She was able to lend her
Tender, and compassionate bearing
To caring for victims
Whose minds were so painfully hurting

It’s a splendid opportunity
This talking therapy
To engage with a professional
As dedicated as Karen
Caesar, who certainly aspires

To deliver with some certainty
A tireless and dedicated approach
And unstinting efficacy

To help her patient,
Speak, cry or remain silent
In her surmountable journey
Of feeling, healing and self discovery!

Dedicated to Dr Karen Caesar

This poem was written eight years ago, but I thought it tied in nicely with my posts on agoraphobia which having spanned 17 years of my life to date has had an enormous impact on my life and the way I live. My counsellor encouraged my creative side which emerged in the form of poetry as I started my healing journey. She said very kindly when we parted after a year in counselling that she would be the first to buy my poems if they were ever published.

I also want to thank TheCrazyBagLady for allowing me to use her sketch in this post. I saw it months ago before I even decided I was going to write about agoraphobia, but I felt at the time that it was such a beautiful sketch that I would one day use it. The opportunity came today and I took it, just as TheCrazyBagLady says on her sketch: “Every day another door opens”.

And to close, in the words of British Telecom (in their sales initiative some years ago): “It’s good to talk…”

~ Marie Williams 2017

copyright Marie Williams – 2009

The Premio Dardos Award

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award free blogs, creativity, cultural, ethical, France, gratitude, L'Entre Deux Mers, Le Chemin Francais, literal, nominations, original writing, personal values, pictures, poems, stories, The French Path, vronlacroix

The Premio Dardos Award

‘Poetry is what happens when language becomes impossible.’
– author unknown

I thank [Between Two Tides]vronlacroix for nominating this blog for a Premio Dardos Award. Veronica blogs at http://33580laborde.wordpress.com. I must apologise Veronica, for the time it has taken me to accept this award. I believe it has been two years since your nomination. We have spoken recently and we did agree that it was never too late to accept an award. Your posts pictures and poems are so beautiful and inspiring and I hope others will agree with me on this.

I would like to pass on the award through nomination to others who have ‘cultural, ethical, literary and personal values transmitted in the form of creative and original writing’. They are: at this point I cannot possibly name any blogs which are more deserving of this award than others. In some ways it would be like choosing between my children: an impossible task. So what I will say is that, I would like to thank everyone who has taken the time to read, like and comment on my posts. It has been an enormous pleasure to have this connection and to share with so many gifted and talented bloggers all with something important and valuable to say. I pass on the award to you. I also know that there are many among you who do not accept awards, but I hope you will appreciate the gesture.

The Rules to Accept:
Those of you who would like to accept the award, the rules are to accept the award by posting it on your blog along with the name of the person that has granted the award. Include the images of ‘Premio Dardos’ in the post, and pass the award to other blogs worthy of this acknowledgement.

And finally, I’d like to wish you all a very Happy New Year!

~ Marie Williams 2017

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.

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

Purple Tree

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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

Sketch of the day no 488 in my art journal: Set your spirit free. I’m wishing for a pair of wings so that I can fly over to bring you beautiful things.

Tags

angel wings, angels, art, communication, compassion, creativity, death, drawing, flight, Heaven

Angel Wings …

BulanLifestyle.com

Today’s sketch in my art journal is a pair of angel wings that I am wishing for, to be able to fly up to heaven to visit my mum and dad. I love you both and you are always in my thoughts xoxo

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Strong Women

Tags

control, creativity, inspire, journey, power, society, style, women

If you have ever felt “less than”, which let’s face it – who hasn’t?  It might not be all of the time, but just every now and then.  Remember that we as women are strong and powerful.

WOMAN

 Woman rise free and strong

Don’t be subservient to a world all wrong

A world that says stay home and imitate a bee

The busy, busy worker bee

No! Woman you are wise, mighty and free

Free to be an amazing tool

Free to rule in whatever capacity

You choose to decree

That’s not to say

We rise and lose our femininity

It is to say, we stand proud

And claim our rightful place in society

A worker bee is simply that

A powerful creature in its own right

And so we don’t denigrate that little mite, but own

The premise that each creature

Stakes its place in time and space

So women of the world unite

And take a bite of that cherry

Taste and see how sweet

Sashay and move those dancing feet

We don’t need to run a home to

Show that this is our rightful place

We can choose to be whatever

We want to be or do

Doctor, lawyer, street cleaner

Creativity comes from within

It is divine and it’s your right

See that cherry – go ahead and bite!

Succulent and sweet its taste

Tarry for a while

Don’t haste

Woman you dictate your style!

© Marie Williams 2009