Still Close By

Tags

death, death of a loved one, father, For Jackie, friendship, grief, loss, love, muddled, poem, poetry, remembrance, sadness

I have not gone
I am close by
In the stars above
You can see my love

I have not gone
I am by your side
In the moon above
You will feel my love

I have not gone
I walk with you
As the world revolves
You will touch my love

I have not gone
I still talk with you
Listen carefully and do not fear
It’s my loving voice you hear

I have not gone
I am near by
Don’t forget
My love will never die

~ Marie Williams 2016

Dedicated to Jackie

Previously published on http://riceandpease.wordpress.com

The Past

Tags

compass, emotion, healing, journey, memory, pain, past, philosophy, poem, poetry, present, self-knowledge, signpost, therapy

How philosophical the past has become. Everyone seems to have a view on it and it appears to be fashionable to voice it forcibly whether the situation calls for it or not. If you’re feeling blue and you don’t know what to do, some kind soul will undoubtedly advise you to “forget the past and focus on the present”. But I say, remember the past. The past: that vast territory which comes without a map, a compass, signposts and requires spatial awareness of the emotional kind. The kind that binds you to a memory, and drags you to that place, even if that is not where you intended to go. And when you get there, the constantly changing vista is never as you remember it: the pain was always more palpable, the joy jarred gently, words were welts on the prominent pathways of your psyche.

But I say remember the past: The past: that vast territory which needs preparation before you set out on it. So I say: equip yourself with sturdy walking shoes, shoes with a firm grip to keep you grounded, mentally make a map meandering mindfully through tough terrain, view the vista with new eyes, make pain a signpost to avoid and see it covered partially with weed. Strengthen your spatial awareness and eke out exits along the way. Present your passport if required and ensure it is stamped and that your visit has been recorded, so that you know that you have been there and that you can go there again. Be mindful of the knowledge that your journey has been a choice and that there are no boundaries concerning the past. It is a place that will always exist. It may not be sunshine, inky moon-lit nights, leisurely lapping sea on sand, it maybe storm-filled days, biting frost and thoughts of time to throw-the-towel-in, but the past is yours and mine. After all, we have all been there. Haven’t we?

~ MEW

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

 

 

 

 

The Gift

Tags

awareness, blogging, clouds, communication, compassion, feelings, healing, metaphor, nature, poem, poetry, self-knowledge, therapy, tranquility, trees

Why this feeling of sadness now?  I think I’ll sit with it a while, after all it cannot hurt to understand the feeling if it manifests itself to me.  If I ignore it and send it away will it be hurt and think that it cannot come again to remind me of something I have not yet forgotten?  Breathe deeply, stare at the yellow walls and the sunlight reflecting through the window at the foot of the stairs.  It doesn’t feel any better, but then why should it?  You’ve only been thinking about the feeling for a few seconds.  Is that all the time that you can spare for this feeling when it so urgently wants to be felt?  Don’t you owe it to yourself to sit and engage with it, have a conversation with it, listen to what it has to say?

A small knot in the pit of your stomach.  A small pressure to the right side of your head, just under your ear.  Tingling in the feet and curiosity around the base of your neck and furrowed forehead.  Lips pursed as if to kiss and greet the feeling that has chosen this moment to visit, when you really weren’t expecting visitors today.  Invite the feeling to stay and find out what it has to say.  Don’t be cold and formal, treat it like a long lost friend.  Connect with it and let it know that it is important, that it is welcome and that although you have other things to do, this feeling has priority right now.  It relaxes and reclines and something shifts within you.

You turn your head and gaze from the foot of the stairs to the open window where the breeze softly caresses your skin, notice too that the trees are waving at you, as the cool air touches their leaves.  That the clouds in the sky floating on by suggest softness, cushioning your  thoughts.  Having gazed a while, seconds, minutes – who knows, you glance away, noticing the feeling has crept away.  You smile and acknowledge the gift your visitor brought today.

~mew

 

 

 

Taboo or not Taboo

Tags

abuse, collusion, communication, conscience, falsehood, healing, injustice, poem, poetry, silence, taboo, taboo subject, therapy

“It is true that when we harm others, we harm ourselves; but it is just as true that when we help others, we also help ourselves.”
― Desmond Tutu, The Book of Forgiving: The Fourfold Path for Healing Ourselves and Our World    

Taboo or not taboo, that is the question

Whether it is nobler in the mind*

To sit and do nothing

Or to stand up for what you know to be right

To listen and not be moved to action

To watch and to turn a blind eye

Does conscience or the lack of it make fools of us all?

In colluding with a wrongful action by keeping silent

In denying truth dishonestly and claiming falsehood true

What destructive forces do we unleash?

And can we ever rein them back before it is too late?

When we look but do not see

When we turn away in disgust relentless to the end

Because we cannot, dare not comprehend

What misery are we storing up for our brothers and our sisters

And ultimately ourselves?

~mew

 

 

[*Inspired by Shakespeare’s “Hamlet”]

 

Secrets

Tags

awareness, child abuse, communication, healing, hurt, metaphor, pain, peace, poem, poetry, self-knowledge, therapy

Are secrets really secrets?  How long can a secret remain a secret?  Doesn’t everything come to light at some point?

 

Secrets

Long before I knew my mind, you took away my right to know my mind, and in so doing took the very essence of me, that part of me which struggles now to know who I am; the real me.  You came and with your honeyed words drew me into a maelstrom of deceit.  I felt confused, but could not fight you because you were bigger than me in every sense of the word.  Physically, you were bigger.  Mentally you were bigger.  Emotionally you were bigger.  You were simply too big for me and I was too small.  What did you see that day you came to me, smiling, with evil in your heart, evil on your mind, evil guiding your hands?

You believed your secret was safe with me.  But you could not be more wrong.  Oh how you gloried in your misdeeds and how you luxuriated in the wrongs of someone with a secret.  You laughed mockingly at the small soul who kept your secret safe within her heart, never fearing that she could one day part with the sorrow that secret held for her.  That secret which tore her dreams to shreds, prevented the seeds of miracles to unfold.  The secret which stopped her from being bold and taking hold of all that was rightfully hers.

Ah but time has passed and with that passing has come the desire to cast aside the mire in which she passed her time, for she could not call it living.  It was a poor substitute.  The secret explodes and each dirty shard is tossed into the air, it is there for all to see.  You seek to deny it, you question the reliability and demand evidence to support the claim. Surely you are not the one to blame?

Your secret was not safe with me.

~MEW 

 

 

The Blue Door

Tags

approval, Blue door, colour, discovery, door, heart, poem, poetry, prose poetry, recognition, therapy

Image – courtesy of TheCrazyBagLady

The Blue door

My head is very clear today. Not jumbled or stifled or even unclear. If I focus on the things that are important to me, I will come through fine. This is not a race or a competition, I feel it is an opportunity to open doors that have been closed to me for a very long time. Which doors have been closed to me? Well there’s a door which is coloured light blue with a white door bell and a black knocker. It is regal looking as if it belongs in a palace. I’m not sure what’s behind that door, but I am very interested to open it and have a good look.

I’m pushing it now, but it is stiff and I really have to put my whole body against it. It gives and flies open! The room is dark, but once my eyes are focused, I can see shapes. There is a heart. It is red and pulsating and vibrant. It fills the room. The glow of promise and dreams gets brighter and it has a perfume: one that I do not recognise. But it makes me want to breathe in deeply until every part of my being is filled with it, and I look around in wonder to see what else there is within these walls.

I feel a sadness that I am only now discovering what lies behind the light blue door. But tinged with that is hope, hope that this room with its pulsating heart will always be available to me. I close the door, and touch my own heart: it leaps with recognition and approval.

~ MEW

Self-Love

Tags

family, growth, imagery, love, poem, poetry, prose poetry, shame, universe, wings

Self-Love

My picture that I drew today was of a butterfly. It could also be an angel. The creature has wings. I have drawn spots on both wings. On one wing there are seven spots and on the other wing there are eight spots. I wrote: “family is important”. But then I scribbled over it because I didn’t want those words on my picture. The words made me feel uncomfortable. They made me feel ashamed, embarrassed and self-conscious. I don’t want to feel like that. I want to feel loved, cared for and very very important and the sun is coming out now and I’m writing faster and faster and I need to feel BIG, HUGE, SPECTACULAR and small again.

Because that is how I know I will grow into being the real me, who is HUGE and talented and fully aware of all that is going on around me. I am pleased to feel that I am progressing. My picture has shown that the small, seemingly insignificant things are just as important or even more important than things I have left behind in my old life.

My old life doesn’t feature now, because it has gone. Exploded! Exploded into a thousand pieces and scattered in the Universe. The Universe has absorbed these pieces and turned them into LOVE. My eyes are moist and shed the tears of a thousand heartaches, these too absorbed by the Universe and sprinkled on the ground below.

~ MEW

Nature’s Therapy

Tags

coils, healing, journal, love, nature, poem, poetry, prose poetry, roses, sunlight, therapy, white paper

Nature’s Therapy

I have music playing in the background and it reminds me of what it feels like to be loved. It is soothing and calming and allows me to escape from pressures that are constantly with me. I feel I can express those feelings through writing on this paper. This paper is white and the colour white reminds me of purity. There are no blemishes on this paper. I want to feel as pure and spotless as this white paper.

Today, I drew a picture with coils and hearts and the sun. I’m not sure what this is symbolic of. Coils could be my tightly wound inner being which is trying hard to be loose and free. The hearts could be my yearning to feel loved and accepted. I wrote: “my love is like a red rose”. A rose is so beautiful that this is what I imagine love to be like. Perfectly formed, delicate, rich in colour, soft and gentle like its petals. Drawing me in to examine, admire, contemplate and touch. I’m not able to turn away from it because it is so beautiful that I just want to keep looking and delight in its beauty.

The sun could be the light that allows me to see. The light shines and there is no darkness when it shines. It shines into my soul and lights up my being.

~ MEW

Soul Music

Tags

emotional freedom, harmony, melody, Muse, poem, poetry, self-expression, self-knowledge, soul

Soul Music

There is sunshine in my heart and my fingers play a melody on the dancing ethereal piano of time. The notes are big and bright and beautiful and they strike each part of me in a way that they have never done before, before I grew to love all the very special parts of the instrument that is simply and eternally me.

Play on says the Muse that guides me. Play on and do not censor the notes that emanate from your soul. Your soul longs to freely skip along the quavers and vibrate with finely tuned feelings. The cacaphony of sounds resonate deeply within, harmoniously holding hands, and the listener listens and makes sense of it all.

~MEW