I don’t like Mondays

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Sunday evening and the last vestiges of a gloriously sunny weekend disappear below the horizon signalling an end to relaxation and fun.  I try to avoid looking at the clock on Sunday evenings and no matter how tired i get i refuse to go to bed as though doing so will halt the death knell march of an impending Monday.  I am confident that i am far from alone in my loathing of the first day of the week although i find myself amused that it is only this particular day i have such distaste for.  Tuesday, for the most part, is much the same as Monday, yet  strangely i find i do not mind a Tuesday so much.

Casting back to younger years and Sunday night would ring to the shouts of ”Get in the bath, you’ve got school tomorrow”  Back to the present and i still find myself following the same ritual as though i never had a bath at any other time. I must hasten to add that i am very clean and actually bathe every day, yet never on a Monday evening would i say ”I’ve got to have a bath, I’ve got work tomorrow”

No there’s just something about an advancing Mondays that seems to hold such importance, enough to taint the evening before.

Tomorrow morning, as always, a very tired me will grope blearily for an unwelcome alarm, emerging looking for all the world like a disgruntled hedgehog. Snooze button on repeat as my sleep deprived brain tries desperately to cling to the last fog of sleep. ‘In a minute’ is my favorite saying on a Monday morning, invariably leading to my being dreadfully late and rushing for the bus to the sounds of the fastest beat song i can find on my ipod. If it is a good morning i may have actually buttoned my shirt up straight.

I just hate Mondays. I cannot decide if it is merely having to do something not of my choosing that makes me hate it so or whether it is the whole total groundhog week that makes it so unwelcome. Perhaps it is the lazy side of me that resents the ritual of a work day, being held to account through every minute of the day and only returning when it is too late to find time for myself. Monday heralds forced company rather than sought and uniform as a pose to comfy jeans and personality reflecting clothing.

Darkness is falling now and i stifle a yawn, trying desperately to pretend that the evening is not advancing at a furious pace. How odd that a Sunday seems to go by far faster than any other day of the week. Whilst i am well aware that it is merely my perception of time i cannot help but imagine Father Time in some act of devilment, gleefully putting my Sunday on fast forward. Oh for an extra few hours, some little bit of extra time to hold the evening at bay, a chance to rewind and luxuriate in the remnants of a day to myself.

Reality bites as a glance to my right sees uniform hanging ready for tomorrow.  I fear if i yawn much harder my mouth will stay permanently open.

Sunday marches on and no matter my distaste of Mondays it’s clear i have little say in the matter. Uniform and running for the bus to the strains of Linkin Park it is then.

Sweet dreams all.

 

 

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Love is not love….

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Love.

There’s no getting away from it.  It really is all around, everywhere you look and a subject more often talked about than most. We all want love yet ask anyone to describe what it is and why they want it and you will get so many replies as to leave you confused.

I have to admit as a young child i was very much of the happily ever after brigade. Brought up on tales of princes and princesses and happily ever after. Truly believing that one day my eyes would meet those of the man i was destined to be with and he would sweep me off my feet, just like in the movies. Beating hearts and breathlessness and a passion leading you to want to be together forever. How rude an awakening when i found that life really isn’t like that at all.

Love, i have decided, is very like any other addiction. There is the initial excitement, loss of inhibition and the buzz that comes with any new drug. A newly discovered euphoria leaves you craving more and slowly the addiction takes hold. Love takes over, blurring the fringes of your reality until it is all you can think about. How much better your life seems with a dose of love to boost you along. You cannot deny that there are those fortunate enough to sail on this happy tide for the whole of their lives never knowing the ill effects that often creep in over time. For others the toxic effects begin to take hold and yet still you continue even knowing that this is bad for you. Addiction is hard to let go of and so often we cling to its safe familiarity. Better to be in bad love than not in love at all right?

Wrong!

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Recently i have been talking to a friend about the breakdown of her relationship and whilst i should never divulge the confidences of another, safe it to say that i puzzled greatly over the reasons for its sad demise.

Change. Or rather refusal to accept any change which comes along. I have to admit i pondered a long time over this. My own relationship, whilst being far from the fairy tales of my childhood, is a very good one simply because i had been willing to compromise my expectations. My partner will be the first to admit he is not the flowery, gushy demonstrative type and perhaps he would not be the man for any woman seeking open and obvious affection such as my friend. But i find our relationship has a solid foundation and affection comes in an endearing way unique to only him. I think if perhaps i were less sure about myself and our relationship i should be unsettled by what may seem  to others an unloving man. Yet to me in all my familiarity of him, i find him affectionate and loving in a way nobody else can see. Hard won but worth it when it appears.

I tried to explain this to my friend. People change but sometimes we have to change with them and relationships cannot always stay the same. Just because love settles into a familar comfortableness does not mean that it is no longer love. Very like a new pair of shoes, all shiny and taking time to break in,  but once done so they settle and mould into a comfortable fit. Well worn and often much loved but different from the new shoes you first bought.

My friend just cannot accept the changes in their relationship and has chosen to end this since it does not meet the idea that she has of how it should be. I feel sad for her that the love she has is no longer the love she wants and perhaps she is right not to compromise her expectations. I asked her if she loved her partner and she said yes but he’s not like he used to be. Perhaps, i pointed out gently, you are in love with who he was and not who he is now.

We are very different she and i and whilst i should find it hard to let go of love for the sake of change i cannot fault her for doing so. I find i am with Shakespeare when i say…

”Love is not love Which alters when it alteration finds”

I find i myself have changed a lot over the years, very different from the girl i was in my younger years. I have had my share of that sweeping all encompassing love and found that it did not end well. It is not to say that i should never be open to that kind of feelings again but i find now i have learned to expect differently from before. Perhaps age has made me less idealistic or perhaps i have simply learned to heed the lessons of experience and compromise where once i should demand.

Love.

You cant always live with it but it seems we definitely cannot live without it. I think all any of us can hope for is someone to notice when we are not around. Someone to care and to love us  in whatever way they can and perhaps if for some this is not as bright and shiny as for others then no matter. We all want to feel loved and wanted and id like to hope that for most we find what we are looking for.

Sometimes you just need to look that little bit more closely.

 

 

 

Who’s that girl?

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People change. We bend, we move, we alter with time. Buffed and worn with the experiences of life, how few of us can say we are still who we used to be. Life has a way of altering who we are, without us ever even noticing, until one day we look back and find ourselves so changed as to almost be a different person.

I know i have.

I admit to being by nature quite insular. Not that anyone would notice for i have become quite adept at giving all the appearance of someone quite the opposite, being open ,warm and friendly in public. Partly due to my job i admit but also due to the fact i find society  clearly expects me to be this way, an automated response in the presence of someone else.  I live in a world of extroverts who like nothing better than to spend vast amounts of time with each other whilst, introvert that i am, i just want to retreat to a place and persons of my choosing. In social situations i still want to be invited to whatever events and get togethers that are planned by my peers but i want to be accepted for the fact i will rarely attend.

Perhaps i am an alien. I often wonder if my body was taken over by some other being so stealthily that i never even noticed. Looking back down the years i regretfully admit i have changed in myself perhaps more than is usual for anyone to do. Gone is the extrovert, friend loving me with a head full of dreams and a whimsical wish to meet prince charming and be wed. Happily ever after turned into happily never at all. Whilst i admit to being much more of a realist than ever i was before, i still find buried remnants of the person i used to be. Yet cynicism clouds my reality, not in a way as to make me grim and dour but certainly enough to change my expectations from life.

”Do you Amanda take……..to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

Yes once that was me. Even after one bad experience i still clung hopefully to the thought that prince charming was out there. Waited, confident that any day soon i’d be swept off my feet, that all the storms in my ocean had been worth the weathering and for a while i was. But somehow fate decided that shipwrecks and sinking were on the cards for me until one day my  battered little boat was bobbing the horizons alone. I determined, however, that i should be the kind of person to never carry my baggage along with me.Weighing me down as i plodded my way doggedly through life, smiling despite it all. Yet for all my determination i find perhaps i carried more with me than i realised, coloured by lies and mistrust into a person who suddenly didn’t need anyone. Strong, independent and solitary yet in contrast still upbeat in spirit.

So there you have me. Independent, strong minded and decidedly cynical with a touch of ironic and at times self deprecating humour. I do not like to need people, a fact which has frustrated male friends and partners alike.  Men i have found in general like to feel needed and i admit i have a touch of this myself, yet i find myself unable to need in return.  I am careful to surround myself with those people i want to have around me but i am careful not to let myself need them.

Needed but not needy.

Yet over all this a gilding that makes me acceptable to society. I’m branded a nice girl, helpful, kind and thoughtful and for the most part i am. But hidden beneath is whats really left of the sum total of my years. However hard we try we cannot escape some elements of life experience that we shall always carry with us.  Miserly with trust my circle is small in some unconscious  attempt at self preservation.  Perhaps life will change me some time in the future, perhaps i shall not always be as i am or perhaps this is how i am destined always to be.

Turning my attention back to the screen i wistfully sigh as Jane Austen’s Emma comes to a tearful realisation that she does indeed love Mr Knightly and i muse upon the fact that perhaps all is not lost of me after all. However unwanted i still seem to have that softness inside that keeps me human.

People change. We bend, we move, we alter with time. Buffed and worn with the experiences of life yet perhaps more of this is under our control than we realise. Trust may not always be as misplaced as sometimes it may seem and damaged inflicted over turbulent years can often be repaired leaving the way clear to finding ourselves again.

I know i’ve changed. Have you?

 

 

Don’t speak, i know what youre thinking.

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‘Sticks and stones may break my bones but names will never hurt me.’

How many times have you said that rhyme to yourself or to another in the face of unpleasant criticism. Words have power, there’s no doubt about it and used in the wrong way can cause a damage that nobody else may see.

Trust me i know.

I’ve always been someone who considers my words before i say them but i’m also a big believer in telling the truth when it’s needed.   Words once said cannot be taken back and even the simplest slip of the tongue may never be forgotten. I paused as i wrote that and let a few verbal demons ping pong around my brain before i squash them down to concentrate. I long ago learned never to speak in anger for these can be the harshest words of all, choosing instead to stay silent until i am calm. A fact i know has frustrated more than one person in the past.

Yes you need to be so careful when choosing to vocalise those thoughts that pop into your head unbidden. Pause for a moment to consider how you should like to hear those very words said to you. Realise that once spoken these cannot be taken back.

Lately though i begin to wonder if society has made us afraid to say anything at all. How many times have you hesitated before speaking even though you know that telling the truth is the best thing to do? Hesitated because you don’t want to seem harsh or have others think badly of you for doing so. Sometimes you smile and bite your tongue and pretend that everything is okay, even though you know deep down it really isn’t but you’re too afraid to say so.  Words hurt but sometimes lack of words can hurt even more.

Today i hesitated. I automatically clicked to comment on a post i saw on Facebook. Nothing nasty or unkind but maybe a little more honest and blunt than would be well received. So i hesitated. Lingered, torn between my instinct to tell the truth and the realisation that the truth is not always well liked. So i bowed to the cotton wool society of today and deleted what i wrote, leaving the sugar coaters to write what would be deemed acceptable.

I caved. I folded. I bit my tongue and conformed to societies modern rules. I know that the person i was replying to would be all the better for hearing the truth but that isn’t how we do things any more. We lie and we avoid the confrontation as though that in itself can change everything.

We gloss, we glitter and pink sparkle everything until the world is fluffy and right. We bury our heads and choose to ignore that which may hurt even if in the long run we are hurt even more by it’s absence. For myself i think i would always choose truth. Words hurt but i would always rather know the reality of any situation that skip around blindly in ignorance. Sometimes i think back to the times i have said to somebody ‘WHY?’ , only to be told the age old reply ‘I didn’t want to hurt you’.  Its funny how many times i look back and find that for as many times there have been words that have hurt, there have been others where saying nothing hurts more. It always does in the end.

Words are powerful. Words can wound and heal, strengthen and weaken, lie and tell the truth. Perhaps it’s time to use them and stand up for good old freedom of speech, be honest but be careful with that honesty and learn a different way to be able to speak our minds.

Maybe i will post my opinion after all.

If it makes you Happy!!

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Ah if only life was so simple!!

6.30am and Sheryl Crowe is ringing in my ears while I do my best to rather tunelessly keep up with the song.

”If it makes you happy..it can’t be that baaaaaaaaad, if it makes you happy, then why the hell are you so sad” I screech merrily whilst the coffee machine buzzes in the background. The cat looks at me in disgust before wandering off to sit by the door, awaiting freedom for a mere 5 minutes before she suddenly decides that she doesn’t want to be out there after all.

If it makes you happy.

I have to wonder why life is so complicated. You never think it is as you go about your daily grind but the truth is we’re mostly programmed to do things that we really don’t want to. We groan loudly on a Monday morning as we haul our protesting bodies into clothes that we would never usually wear, before leaving on a commute that we should never undertake if we didn’t have to. Work. Really, would anyone ever go if they really had a choice?

Of course not.

We’re programmed you see, nice obedient little robots, trained to do the expected and brainwashed enough to consider consequences should we fail to do so. But does it make you happy? What if one day you just woke up and said ”I don’t want to do that today, or that, or that”

Well I guess for one you’d get the sack and starve is the answer. Then there’s the guilt. That little voice inside your head that pokes and prods, reminding you of what you should be doing. Intruding on any attempts to do anything at all that you’re not pre- loaded to do. Sometimes I imagine in my head what it would be like to just say no every time I had to do something I didn’t want to. A day in my life where I refused to go to work, where I avoided the bus and wore clothes that I knew I really shouldn’t be wearing that day. One day to not do what is expected of you but instead to rebel and do exactly as you pleased. No no NO!

BUT THAT’S WHAT WEEKENDS ARE FOR!!

Somebody said this to me once and I remember raising my eyebrows and saying ‘Really?’ Am I the only one that spends a weekend rushing around juggling washing and cleaning whilst trying to fit in a trip to the dreaded supermarket? Sunday afternoons spent in exhaustion staring zombie like at the TV because I haven’t the energy to do any more. Weekend PAH!! Somewhere in all this chaos you need to find time to have a relationship which, trust me, can be challenging at times.  I envy those people who make it all look so easy. So balanced that they spend the weekend eating out and planting pretty flowers in the garden.  A decaying Jasmine plant lurks by my front door giving testament to the fact that I am definitely not one of those people.

I guess I just have to find a balance. My options to either wait until I retire ( currently around the age of you’ll be too old to enjoy it) or I need to land myself a lottery win and pay someone to do all the things that I don’t want to.

If it makes you happy..it can’t be that bad.

But it is!!  Honestly!

Do more of what makes you happy. Life is for living. Live for the moment.

All those ra ra ra quotes that appear in google when I type in the word happy.  None of these tell me how to get somebody to go to work and clean the house for me whilst I go and sit on top of a hill reading a book! Time intrudes in the form of the most annoying alarm tone in the world. My brain whirrs into ‘you have to go to work’ mode and automaton that I am I’m already mentally laying out my uniform.  Careful makeup to hide the sleep deprived bags under my eyes. Chewing mindlessly on, well I can’t remember what I ate for breakfast. Suddenly the cat decides that actually she does want to be outside after all.

Car horns toot, rain drizzles steadily and the bus is late as usual.

If it makes you happy, it can’t be that bad.  Does not compute, does not compute.

 

Into thin air

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Sometimes i wonder what it would be like to disappear. Not in a magical sense where i vanish in a puff of smoke to goodness knows where, but really disappear from life in general. Suddenly just to drop everything and keep on walking without ever looking back, shedding responsibilities like layers of oversized clothing, each step making me lighter as i get further and further away.

Ah responsibilities, the bane of every persons life. Those persistent blighters that keep us running like rats on a wheel, getting nowhere yet not knowing what else to do but run. Strange how akin to a rat i have felt of late,working, eating , sleeping and running ,running, running on my wheel. Eyes firmly focused on the bars as if i could reach them if i ran hard enough. Hope trained firmly on the space beyond waiting for some monotony breaking piece of cheese to dangle on the outside. Run ,run ,run…keep on running.

There has to be more to life than this, oh that eternal cry of the overworked and underlived and surely i expect there must be if i only had the time. Tick tock, i’m late, i’m late. A white rabbit skips around in my mind relentlessly urging haste that i have somewhere to be. Responsibility again, stabbing endlessly whenever i should pause to take a minute. No time No TIME!! You have to go. Keep on running, run run run.

Oh to be able to just walk away. Just to find space to exist outside my own head and my own life. To be me but not to be me in any encumbering, self shackled way. To spread my arms wide and gaze up at the sky and just BREATHE.

Responsibility again and this time it has brought a friend. Each have an arm and pull me in opposite directions. You need to do this, you need to do this, no time no time like some distorted mantra in my brain. No time, no time, who are you anyway?

Sometimes i wish i could just disappear.

You hear it all of the time in the media, people just vanish, never to be seen again. How strong the yearing for freedom, for some flicker of differentiality to the never ending tedium and sheer encompassing exhaustion that is my life. Oh to be able to sleep until i am not tired any more, to walk at a pace that is not a run. To look around instead of rushing blinkered headlong through the day. Stress begone and leave me to my day.

Sometimes i wish i could just disappear….. and i could, couldnt I?

 

Blowing out the candle.

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I’ve grudgingly decided that I think too much. Generally I mean.

Not in any way specific to one particular topic but my mind in general wanders and then I think. A lot. I overthink and I obsess. Then I think some more.

Today I was reluctantly babysitting the remnants of some international flu virus whilst dragging my protesting body around the house, trying to raise some semblance of order to its mildly neglected state. I like everything just so and often cast loving glances around my belongings, drinking in the feeling of home they give me. Today, however, my mind started to wander to the realms of mortality and I began to imagine what on earth would happen to all of this if there were no me to need it. I blame it entirely on Doctor G you see. My son is horrified that I avidly watch TV shows about autopsies..”even while you’re eating! YUK!!!”  For my own part I find it tragically fascinating, although it does make one extremely aware of how limited an existence we can have.

Around the room my glance went as my overactive brain stripped away everything that was me. Footsteps in an empty room before a voice says ”Last tenant passed away, rather tragic it was too”   NO!! Snatching up a teddy bear I hugged it comfortingly before assuring it I wouldn’t abandon it any time soon. Of course then I HAD to think about it for it was stuck in my brain and would not be quiet no matter how hard I tried to make it. I wonder just how long I DO have left? Oh, what if I should get run over by a bus tomorrow, should I write letters, for everyone might think I didn’t ever love them! Those that I didn’t might think that I do and that’s even worse!! What about the cat??

As I said I think too much. But on a serious side I couldn’t help but wonder how easily our lives are discarded and packed away like it never existed at all. Belongings that we so carefully hoard over many a year vanish leaving no trace of our personality behind. Those of us lucky enough to leave someone to mourn us eventually fade to a few photographs and disjointed memories before evaporating into nonexistence like we had never been. Cherished items mouldering in some back street charity shop, forgotten and unwanted.

Perhaps it is something that comes with age. Never before did I think about dying or not being here, yet all too often recently I am aware of how every year is a bonus. I think it would be arrogant of me to assume that I should get to live out as many years as I would like. Yes, if I am honest , I am a little afraid. Not of dying, but of dying before I am ready to go. So many places I want to go and so many things I want to do. I wonder if fate will give me the time I feel that I need. I wonder if I shall leave someone behind to care that I am gone.

Sometimes lately I feel afraid to go to sleep, terrified that this may be the last time I close my eyes. So irrational a fear yet so few of us get warning and I should not want to close my eyes so early for the final time. Yet I am so very aware that if this the case I should never even know that this was the end. I would not be here to know that I did not wake up.  Blown out like the flame on a candle.

I wish I could choose a point in time and say ”That’s it. That’s when I want to go”. Be able to live free of the worry that my time might be shorter than I’d like. Sadly it just doesn’t work that way. So each night I close my eyes and fight the temptation to try and stay awake and pray as hard as I can that I get to open my eyes in the morning just the same as I did yesterday.

 

 

In the shadow of Heathrow

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Right on cue the air screams with the vibrations of a timely plane as it passes overhead, seemingly close enough to reach out and touch. This is Heathrow, one of the busiest airports in the world and arrivals and departures number in the seconds not in the minutes. Believe it or not you do tune it out to some degree but the sight of the giant metal Avians littering the sky is a familiar one and one you expect of a bustling city like London. Being somewhat of a country bumpkin myself i nevertheless feel very at home in my city second home and thrill in the vibrant diversity of it all. The hustle and bustle feels very compact and crammed in , with every available space untilised to the maximum and hardly a green space to be seen unless it be of the grass verge variety. Or so i thought.

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Following a maze of urban streets you step through the gates of a city park and are instantly transported to rural heaven. Along winding tree lined avenues, following the wild overgrowth of the River Crane, you would believe yourself to be in the heart of the British countryside and not infact in the depths of the largest city in England. Butterflies wheel and spin, vying for airspace as they dance their fluttering dance across the heat shimmering sky. The air of silence is oddly shattered by the alternating sounds of the overhead jet engines interspersed with the raucous cries of squabbling magpies. Crossing an elderly bridge to gaze down at rippling water and contemplate a game of ‘Pooh Sticks’ before turning a corner and stepping back in time.

St Dunstans church nestles serenely in a sunlit corner of the park showing visible signs of age yet none the less impressive for all that. Splitting wood and age worn gravestones announce proudly that this elderly house of god has been there for many more years than you and i could contemplate.

”Come inside” it smiles invitingly, like some beneign old grandfather welcoming you around for tea. Who are we to refuse and we walk carefully around the grounds interestedly peering at those gravestones visible enough to still be read. Yes old it is and the gravestones lay testament to its age. Who were you we wonder as we pause by first one and then many more of the higgley piggledy scattering of stones. Serene and welcoming and cause indeed to linger a while before continuing on our way.

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Much of a surprise then to round a corner and see undeveloped land as far as the eye can see. The alien bulk of a distant control tower the only blight on the otherwise rural looking landscape. Golden fields ripple in the gentle breeze leading to enticing looking tunnels of trees and yet more green and golden expanse. A flash to the right as a little grey body makes a dash for cover, white fluffy tail bouncing madly as it makes a bid for safety.

Bunnies!!

Yet another and then two more as they pause to consider our motives before either fleeing or dismissing us of no consequence and remaining as they were. We briefly halt our progress and tarry a moment to consider them as they in turn watch us a little warily but do not flee. Another is not so bold and dashes for the safety of a large patch of undergrowth yet perhaps it was not us who sent him there as a large magpie hops madly around upon the path infront of us. Just about to perform my usual superstitious salute i spot another and lower my arm in relief. The area is almost deserted compared to the overpopulated urban madness not a stones throw away, yet here it is peaceful and only the odd passing stranger indicates that we are not totally alone. Along the river we wander before out into the wide golden wilderness we step once more. Some thoughtful soul has cut a wonderful path of crossroads within the expanse and some time is spent wandering first one way and then another , randomly taking first one turning and then a  second. The bunnies give way to a lone kestrel soaring in the evening sky, clearly it is time for dinner and we are too far away to disturb his efforts and so he pays us no heed. Look another and yet another and still one more! Six we count in all and they swoop and soar in the warm evening air first gliding landwards before flapping madly to hold in some advantageous position. Glorious they are and so many is a sight to see but secretly i pray ‘dont catch a bunny, oh PLEASE don’t catch a bunny! ‘
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Again the raucous call of a bullying magpie as a tag team of the embullient avians lay chase to an unfortunate Kestrel. Clearly laying ownership to a small tree they are having none of the poor Kestrels attempts to gain perch there for some small moment of time. Two against one is no match and in defeat he wheels away to seemingly float upon the night sky with his bretheren. Pause for a ‘selfie’ for posterity and then it is time to let those jet engines intrude once more as the rural hideaway fades and urban life encroaches once more. How magical to find such a place so hidden from view in a most unexpected place and one i hope i shall visit again sometime in the future.

The memory box

Folding the letter she gently smoothed the sheet of paper under her fingers feeling beneath them dryness of age that had affected it. Eyes too poor to read it now, nevertheless she knew every word by heart having devoured it so often over the years, now carefully stored with so many others and only now seeing light of day.

HARRY!

Closing her eyes his face flashed into her mind, hazy now as she struggled after so long to keep his features sharp and clear, she was losing him to time she knew that and the thought made her smile sadly. So long ago yet brief moments of clarity would invade her thoughts, his smile cutting through the fog and making it seem like only yesterday and then he was gone again leaving her with only these tangible memories. 

Sighing softly she replaced the pages into the large carved wooden box, fingers brushing a small packet as she did so drawing it slowly towards her before cupping it gently in her wrinkled palms and clasping it to her chest.  ‘Not long my love’ she thought to herself ‘Soon, it shall be soon’

Leaving the packet unopened she returned it quickly to the box, thrusting it inside as guilt burned and she slightly afraid of being discovered although she knew she would not be, nobody came any more. A splash of bright colour caught her eye and she reached towards a garish painted picture of a child’s hand with crude scrawl underneath depicting the artist’s name.

Ella.

Another smile, eyes warming briefly before the light quickly faded, no Ella was long gone and this just yet another memory of things come and gone in her many years of being. Sadness less sharp as each year went by panged momentarily before she dismissed it and returned the picture to lie back along its fellow inhabitants of the cluttered old box. 

Her worn gaze swept over the small grizzled teddy bear and the beribboned letters, oh she had been so popular in her day with her many suitors all begging for a smile, a glance, some sign of recognition from her but almost from the first she had only had eyes for him. Sweeping an errant lock of hair from her forehead she leaned further over the box disturbing the contents in her hunt for the one thing she sought. She needed to find it, to bring him close again before her failing mind refused to remember what she was looking for and left her in that absent place where nothing mattered any more. 

There! There it was.  Her heart leapt as she found the one thing she wanted and fingers rapidly cleared the dust from the front of the small framed picture. Lovingly she gazed at the sun bleached photograph, yellow with age, showing a young couple smiling shyly at each other.He resplendent in some bygone uniform showing duty to his country and she delicately pretty in florals and lace, bonnet trailing from fingers gently clasped between his.

Harry.

Even as she gazed the fog came and eyes clouded over, picture already forgotten falling into her lap and memories of him vanishing like mist in the sun. In the shadows of the room a figure waited, brass buttons shining on a uniform of old, boyish face echoing the love reflected earlier on hers. He could wait, he’d waited such a long time that a little longer would not hurt. 

‘Soon my love’ he smiled ‘ i shall see you soon’ 

goodbye my friend

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From the time we are small we will encounter many other people whose lives will interact with our own. Some of them will linger for a time before passing along their own path whilst others may stay with us forever. No matter the length of time each leaves behind some tiny little footprints in our memories and often our hearts. 

It is with great sadness today that i learned of the passing of a very old friend. A friend lost in the distant past but despite the different paths our lives had taken still a friend for all that. Mingled with sadness is an overwhelming guilt that perhaps i should have tried harder to hold on to the friendship instead of letting it go,. Perhaps my presence could have made some difference to her as it did in the past. Could i have saved her?

She was fragile you see and i knew it. A total contrast to my own mulish strength and i often was the support for her failing life. She did not cope well with the downsides of life and sought solace often in the bottom of a glass. I know it was not my choice and she lived the way she wanted but memories of old remind me that i could have stopped her or at least led her to moderation as i had in the past.  But maybe i failed her by not being there. 

It is all too easy to become wrapped up in our own lives and i am the first to admit i am very solitary. My friendships are few by choice even if my acquaintances are many. Yet we found each other she and i, in a time when we were both at our most vulnerable and formed a firm kind of limping friendship that i like to hope mattered at least a little. That she was only slightly older than i is a painful jab at just how short life really is and perhaps makes me more aware than ever of my own mortality. Yet i like to believe that once a friendship is formed then it will always be so whether the years steer you in different directions or not and i think that perhaps she would have agreed with that. 

Wherever she is i hope she is in a better place for i know that for her life was not an easy experience. Perhaps now she will find the happiness that for so long eluded her and finally find herself some peace.

Goodbye my friend, 

There is a happy land

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In the course of my work i encounter many many people. All walks of life, all ages, races and religions. Some of these are your average pleasant examples whilst more often they are sadly the opposite. Whatever the person you meet there are occasionally those who for some reason or another stay firmly lodged in your memory. Up until now it has been my misfortune for all of those of my experience to be of a negative nature rather than a pleasantly positive.

Recently all of that changed when i had a conversation with an elderly man. To begin with he won me over with his lovely chirpy greeting and after a morning of exceptionally rude people he was definitely a balm to my downcast mood. They say that you can hear in the voice when a person is smiling and of this gentleman this was certainly true. Smiling he most definitely was. 

Faintly Welsh with that singsong lilt to his voice he replied that as the sun was shining he was very well indeed and asked after myself in return.  ‘My Lovely’ he called me and that in itself made me smile for it was nice to hear after a particularly harsh day. I explained the purpose of my call and he listened intently before pausing for a moment after i finished speaking. then he began to chuckle and i was taken aback as he announced that he would be glad to help but he really did not see the point for he was not long for this world. ”I’m dying you see” he told me quite nonchalantly.  Like any empathetic person i was horrified and apologised profusely, condolences rushing forth although i wasn’t really sure any of them were enough to befit the situation. Startlingly he dismissed my words with another chuckle and told me that he was ready to go.

”I’ve lived my life you see” he told me ”I’ve lived a very happy life, had a wonderful wife who is waiting up there for me to join her”

Then he began to talk. He told me of his life and his time in the second world war. That he found in me a willing audience there seemed to please him greatly and we talked for some time as he told me of his time as ground crew personnel. Scoffing genially at me as i enthused my love of the B-17, telling me firmly that there was nothing to hold a candle to the good old Spitfire. As he talked he never changed, that same chirpy happy nature shone through and despite his bombshell i found myself smiling too, very much warming to this old man i had never met and he did seem to be genuinely happy. 

Smiling still he told me of his wife, clearly from the gentle affectionate way he spoke of her it seemed he really did love her. That he was looking forward to seeing her again in whatever place exists after passing touched me and made me smile. No clearly this lovely old man had lived a happy life, this much was evident from the way he spoke. He stuck in my memory for his charm and his friendly nature and his gentle acceptance of his lot and i wondered if in my own turn i should feel the same. 

I have always been a big believer in trying to do the best we can with the life we have for we really do only get one try at it. There is no ‘return to go’ for those who make mistakes and get it wrong no matter how much we should wish it. Although many years hopefully yet to go i couldnt help but hope that i should be able to say the same as this lovely man, that my mistakes however many were still nothing compared to the happy parts of the life i managed to have. I have to admit a relief that my time is not yet up for i have not yet reached that place where i can look back and say i have led a happy life. My mistakes are many and i am not so very good at getting things right. Yet there are those things, however few, that definitely make all of the difference and i can truly say i feel i got right. It is so very hard to realise just when something is worth counting and when it is of no consequence at all but just sometimes there are things you just know you have to count. Regrets will follow when you realise you should have counted something that you didnt or in hindsight put too much stock in that mattered not at all.

It is all a question of balance and doing for yourself those things that will make you look back and say you led a happy life. Perhaps you may not have started out that way but the world is full of choices and it is up to us to choose the path to the right memories. For myself i shall remember that lovely old man whom i met only briefly but who made me smile on a very bad day and who gave me faith that if you stay true to yourself and what you believe you really do have the potential to be happy. 

Wherever you are sir i wish you and your wife a most happy ever after. 

Fifty ways NOT to leave your lover

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Breakups.

According to the old song there are fifty ways to leave your lover. There are definitely the old classics and again some much more inventive and whilst i hesitate to bore you with exactly 50 ways it seems there are a few of the definite old favourites..

Most of us have been through one it at some time or other and you are a rare person indeed if you have not.  It is very hard to know the right way or the wrong way to end such a personal part of your life, especially when often the other person has little idea of what is coming.  I have lost count of the times friends or acquaintances have sat in floods of tears as the result of the object of their desire effecting some ruthless termination of their ‘affaires de coeur’.

Is their a right way to leave your lover? 

The matter is one of much debate and indeed there seems to be much opinion on how NOT to do it as a pose to how to actually get it right. Having instigated debate amongst friends it seems that people are of the same opinion about the faux pas of the relationship terminating world.

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THE TEXT MESSAGE:

Oh yes the dreaded text. Probably one of the worst and most thoughtless ways of all and yet possibly one of the most frequently used. A perfect way to avoid the confrontation and the devastated reaction from ones partner yet calculatingly cold and callous. You can only imagine the response that will be forthcoming and wishing to avoid the scene and make an easy escape many do choose this option as a get out of jail free card. One of the most hurtful methods however since for the recipient the chance of closure and an explanation as to why the relationship failed is never given.  It must be crushing indeed to feel your spirits lifted at the beep of a text from your lover only to find a textual dear john stating ‘its over’

ITS NOT YOU, IT’S ME:

Ah the old chestnut. Trotted out so often over the decades that it is now a statement of much ridicule. Used in times of cowardice when the aggressor wishes to bow out gracefully but avoid the confrontation of a scene. ITS NOT ME??? Of course its me you snivelling little toad…you wouldn’t be leaving shortly to hurtle into the arms of another if it wasn’t ME! Actually now i think about it , you could be right here and it is actually you after all. Clearly you have deficiencies which i was besottedly unaware of, cowardice being the aforemost of them all. Seriously though, how often have we rolled our eyes derisively as some poor sap bleats out that eternal old phrase ”It’s not you, it’s me” NEXT!

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THE PHONECALL:

Admittedly a step up from the text message but only just.Usually lasting only so long as it takes for the recipient to dissolve into tears and demand an explanation before the call is ended. Exactly the same reasons as with the text message, avoidance of confrontation and total absence of any courage but still with the same result. Perhaps a little less cold and callous this one but still getting the old heave ho via the telephone is hardly the ending of choice. BUT at least you get to say your piece or scream blue murder on this one even if just a little before the other person baulks and hangs up the phone. Courage only goes so far you know!

HI HONEY IM DEAD:

Oh yes this one is true, believe it or not. I have heard this story more than once with both males and females as the protagonist and was rather horrified at such deliberated dispassion. The general idea was that, tiring of the relationship, the person would invent some serious illness or disease that would enable them to lessen the contact and time spent with their partner. Often coupled with financial extortion this enables the protagonist to very often take up with a new partner and not need to find excuses for being absent from the relationship. After a time the ‘illness’ progressively worsens until eventually the unsuspecting partner receives a message from a ‘friend’ saying their signifcant other has passed away. Horrifying and cold in the extreme but nonetheless true. I felt such sympathy for these people for this was truly an abuse of trust in the extreme. Perhaps it is just me though, that sat and thought why bother?? Why go to all that trouble and intrigue instead of just saying sorry it’s not working. The mind boggles and maybe we shall never know but happen it did. 

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THE EMAIL:

Oh ye fiend of modern invention, how many of us have received the old ‘dear john’ via email. Perhaps it is the safety of hiding behind a computer but often it is the case that explanations are more than forthcoming in this instance. There can be no doubt we all like to know just WHY our security blanket suddenly became rather moth eaten but often the email takes the why just a little too far. Perhaps it is just the modern day age that we live in that leaves us feeling safer ‘talking’ by email rather than face to face. So many people i know have received emails from partners in times of emotional upheaval outlining clearly all of the things that they feel are lacking. Sometimes perhaps this can be a gentle opening for a good heart to heart talk and a chance to address any problems within the relationship but often it is just a covert way of venting ones spleen and once started tends to spew forth unguarded. I have seen many a friend shocked at he receipt of such an email since they mostly had little idea anything was wrong. I have been guilty of this myself in a lesser degree but only in the early days of a relationship when i was unsure of the person and their reaction to what i considered to be an issue in our relationship and thankfully it led to proper adult discussion. I, thankfully, have never dissected my whole relationship via email nor felt the need to end it that way and much prefer to talk whether it be good news or bad. Email can be a good opener but should never be used as a method of closure in our opinion.

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THE CHEAT:

Oh definitely topping the best seller list with everyone here for the worst way to leave your lover. Nobody likes to be replaced and there is no doubt that seeing the object of your affections in the arms of another is never an easy thing to take. Confronted with your replacement you would have to be very secure indeed not to compare yourself unfavourably with the new improved version of ‘US’. This has to be the most uncaring way of ending a relationship and the visible proof that you are not irreplaceable after all is a bitter pill to swallow. Worse still is having this thrust upon you whilst you are still in a relationship with that person as a pose to having time to bring yourself to terms with it to some small a degree. I can never understand why a person should cheat when it would be simpler to end that which you are not happy with and then look for something else yet still so many continue to do so. Perhaps it is the old having your cake and eating it scenario where they simply wish a little excitement aside that which they already have. Definitely a risky business then since often when caught you lose everything anyway. The other option is perhaps the simply wished to be caught after all , leaving their partner to do the act of ending the relationship for them. Whatever the reason there is no worse feeling in the world than knowing that the one you love has another besides yourself. 

Maybe there are 50 ways to leave your lover. I have no doubt that many of you have heard of some of the more inventive ones but still it cannot detract from the fact that a heart is being broken. Does it really cost so much to be honest and to simply sit and talk. I cannot promise it will be well received for people people react differently to the loss of that which they love but surely it is kinder to be straightforward and truthful. We all decided the same, that we would rather be truthfully told that our significant other did not love us any more and be allowed to grieve for the relationship than to be the receiver of untruths and excuses.  Whilst some of the more colourful of us decided that throwing your other half over Niagara Falls in a barrel or putting them up for sale on ebay were perfect ways to end your affair perhaps it is kinder to just talk. 

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50 WAYS TO LEAVE YOUR LOVER:

We thought of a few, how about you?

The weight of desperation…

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As you go about your daily life it is highly unlikely that you will fail to see the obesity crisis rocking the western world in more recent times. Whether it be the huge increase of overweight people in general  or simply the ever increasing adverts screaming ‘LOSE WEIGHT FAST’ you would have to be blinkered indeed not to notice. We are a self indulgent society, there is no escaping from it and sadly it seems we only consider the consequences after the fact. Very far after the fact it seems for many and i myself have been no exception.

I am not one to take much stock of some aspects of social media yet i am amazed at how many people, my friends included, live their whole lives on facebook or its like. There is nothing too personal nor too private that they do not feel ready to announce to the world and i am ceaselessly amazed at some of the things i see and read. As a blogger i am happy to share certain opinions and amusing anecdotes relating to my life but i like the option of privacy and am selective about whom i share my intimacies of life with. Still i am not above browsing interestedly at the public announcements of my friends cringing or chuckling as the status may warrant. Today however, as i idly browsed i was struck by the number of weight loss adverts peppering many of the pages i viewed. Although all different brands and methods they all nonetheless screamed out the same message ‘LOSE WEIGHT FAST’  Perhaps the most alarming thing of all was not the presence of the adverts themselves but the sheer number of people flocking to them wanting that quick fix to their excess weight.

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For me it was a definite trip down memory lane and an almost Christmas Carol like visit to my former unhappy self. To say i was overweight would definitely be no understatement for the disgrace that i had become was almost double the person i am now. Yet it was all of my own doing and to a certain extent a deliberate attempt to obliterate the unhappy shadow that i had become. Never in truth did i consider the consequences of my actions nor did i have the foresightedness to realise that being big would not change the problems that had forced me there, it would only serve to be lessened slightly by the momentary comfort of some sugary treat. It is hard for anyone who has not experienced it to understand the comfort and solace that can be found in the arms of a bar of chocolate. If only the feeling lasted as long as the unhappiness but alas it does not and with it comes the crashing low of reality.

IM FAT!! 

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There may be those rare few who genuinely are happy being bigger and who do not feel the need to conform to a society ideal in order to feel attractive and loved. Sadly i like many was not once of those and longed to undo the damage that i had inflicted upon myself and be once again the slim person i had been before. But again like many i was daunted by the long road ahead and i failed to see the reality of the situation, it had taken years to become this large and it was going to take equally as long to take it away.

I wanted it now! 

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Therein we find the problem of many a dieter, once the decision has been made and the excess weight confronted we want suddenly to be slim overnight. This does not happen and even when the weight loss is rapid the effects upon the body cosmetically are not appealing as the skin fails to keep up with the speed of the weight lost. I have seen many a person embark upon some extreme weight loss programme only to be devastated by the resulting swathes of excess flesh where they had imagined some bikini body. Yet still they flock to these adverts willing to part with hard earned money for the illusion that this will be an overnight fix. I did it the hard way. I dieted, i failed, i cried, i sweated at the gym and i got right back on the wagon after every cheat and tried again. I threw many a tantrum and hurled many an abusive name at my reflection in the mirror but i kept on trying until i finally saw the results. In hindsight i think the stuggle in itself taught me more of a lesson than any quick fix ever could and even today i still carry on fighting the battle to keep from obesity. 

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I cannot help but feel a sadness for those who clamour around the quick fix for i was them once and i remember well the hopelessness and the desperation. The need to conform and the desire to be accepted and loved. Once you have been overweight you are never free from a diet for it is your curse to be susceptible to temptation and weaknesses that led you to where you were in the first place.Yet you learn in a way you never have before and you find a way to ignore the little voice reverberating in your brain urging you to give in and indulge.

I am quite sure i drive my boyfriend mad with my constant self criticism and shattering insecurities and that is my cross to bear. Yet thankfully he understands me and knows from whence it comes. He listens without complaint yet sometimes will reprimand me for slamming down any comforting compliment he may make. Perhaps the latter rather frustratedly for he knows at times that no matter what he says i shall not hear it.  But hear it i do although it maybe sometime later when it penetrates the sometimes self loathing i feel. It is a battle i shall continue to fight maybe forever but i’m winning…at least i am winning. Still i cannot help but feel sad when i see the girls i used to be, cannot help a wave of memories crash in, followed by the relief that i made it. Almost.

There simply is no quick fix. It is something you come to learn as you make the journey yourself, for the battle is as much inside as it is out. I made it on the outside, i was lucky and i do look good i grudgingly can admit this but it took someone else to open my eyes. The inside is something else and i shall carry on along the road with a supporting hand in mine.

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The weight of desperation.  

Ain’t no mountain high enough

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Pick up any newspaper, turn on the television news and you cannot fail to see the constant doom and gloom predictions of the current economic climate. As we read daily of hardships and hurdles, of food banks and homelessness you cannot help but see the downturn of life in general for so many. There is surprisingly an odd detachment in society  however, with the true realities of a life of hardship being a most alien concept to those more fortunate and favoured. Perhaps it is true that unless you have had to live a reality then why should it even exist for you and this definitely seems to be the case today. Not for the first time i have witnessed people shocked by the genuine realities of life for the less privileged and the admittance of a total unawareness of such existence. Media it seems has much to answer for in its portrayal of modern human lives.

Personally i cannot deny that things have been somewhat of a downward spiral in some elements of my life and, control freak that i am , i find being hemmed into very tight corners a most unpalatable situation indeed. I have likened the situation very much to running a hurdle race and finding that some imp of fate is gleefully adding extra hurdles only in my lane, leaving me running far behind my fellow competitors. 

I have in the past often imagined my life as like that of a rat in a maze, constantly searching for that one door exit whilst fate peers interestedly at my struggles to succeed. I guess here though is where my quirky sense of humour kicks in and i send up thanks that i am not growing an extra ear upon my back. Yes the life of a lab rat would definitely not be one of my choosing and i am more than a little thankful that i am not so far down the species ladder as to genuinely be of the rodent variety.

Despite normally being of such a positive nature it is very difficult after some time not to allow those glimmers of disillusionment and negativity to creep in. It is easy then to self doubt and wonder perhaps if it is not society at all but yourself that is lacking and failing on an epic scale. Looking in the mirror you cease to smile and focus instead on those imaginary flaws and inflate them to fantastical proportions until they dominate your life. I have to my shame done this and i freely admit it. 

”Stupid ugly cow” i have hissed at myself in the mirror. 

I have never been the type of person to outwardly direct my frustrations and self doubt, instead choosing to direct it inwardly at the person i consider to blame. 

Myself.

Perhaps this is more than a little unfair as most of my obstacles have come as the result of outside influences that i genuinely had litte control over and whilst hindsight is a wonderful thing it would have been very hard to erase any of them as each sprang out of an at the time necessity.  Frustrating in the present though when any present efforts are hampered by the chains of the past. But the whole point of running a race is to get to the finish line and often those most remembered are not the ones who came first in blazing glory but those who fell and yet got back up and finished despite coming far behind everyone else. 

So as another monday rolls around i feel a little lightened and ashamed of myself for my negativity thanks to the words of a friend.

The strongest wood, is from trees that withstand the strongest winds, And steel, has to  go into the hottest fire/furnace to become the strongest steel. And of course a piece of coal, has to undergo the most tremendous pressures, to become a diamond

I am running my own race, i realise this and must keep on running no matter the hurdles. I may not come first but i will never fail as long as i just keep on running. The same friend pointed out to me the following quote and i realised he was right, i knew it all along i just let negativity blinker my goal. 

Behind every fear, is a person, you want to be. You face your fears, you become the person you want to be. You run from your fears, you’re not living

So following a friendly mental slap, armed with new motivation and the offer of help from that friend i am willing to walk out onto the ledge and take a small leap of faith. Not in him but finally in myself.  Perhaps after all it is not for me to judge my own strengths and weakness but someone more impartial and less biased in any direction as i am in myself. I am willing to try at least for i shall never reach my goal if i keep on standing still. Someday you may know my name, someday you may not but whatever the result i shall know i gave it all i had. Obstacles are there for a reason, to climb over but often the biggest obstacle of all is infact yourself.

It is possible, so i have been told, to climb a Panda.

Anything is possible if you only try. 

New Year Dread-olutions

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Yes its that old January time again and just the same as every year i ponder the resolutions i’m going to make. They rarely vary much and whilst i don’t exactly break them i couldn’t say i exactly keep them either. As usual on the top of the list is the inevitable post christmas diet which, were i to stick to my pre christmas vow, would not really be necessary. But as usual i ate too much,  wolfed down more chocolate than a cadburys taste tester and generally overindulged on a grand scale. After so many months of restriction it is rather reminiscent of offering water to a man in a desert and so rapidly the pounds piled on. Fortunately i know when to stop and as january rolls around i was once again haunting the aisles of the local supermarket avidly scouring labels. 

I am actually quite resolute once i actually set my mind to something and since i like being slim more than i like my beloved chocolate i wasn’t too unhappy about the diet at all. Until……

Sitting in the mall later that day i had forgone the greasy pasties my companions had favoured and instead had opted for a lower calorie salad sandwich. I had just taken a bite when a blur appeared infront of me and thrust a small plastic bag at me saying ”Here have a freebie” before rushing away. Rather startled i lowered my sandwich and peered inside, wondering what on earth she had given me. My expression changed somewhat as i pulled out a notebook, pen and shopping bag all emblazoned with the words ‘WEIGHT WATCHERS’

Now whilst i may mention dieting i am not infact obese, being 5ft 10 and a healthy size 10. I had certainly not considered myself as looking in need of Weight Watchers and to say i was rather offended was putting it somewhat mildly. Truth be told i seethed about it for rather some time afterwards muttering crossly to myself in the mirror as i tried to breathe in hard and look like a size 8. Eventually i had to breathe out and pondered for some time the positives and negatives of wearing corsets in the modern day world. Bridget knickers perhaps??

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So the New Year diet is in full swing and i sat today dolefully prodding at my cottage cheese wishing it were something a sight more interesting. I do not dislike Cottage cheese but it is one of those foods one would definitely not rush to get in line for. The kitten twitches its nose in the direction of my lunch trying to decide if i am eating anything tasty and i wave a forkful in her direction. ”Help yourself” i tell her generously, but she twitches her nose again and decides i am not eating anything palatable and stares balefully at me before settling back to sleep.

”No” i tell her prodding it again ”I wouldn’t eat it if i had a choice either”

Perhaps the cat has the right idea and next year i should bypass the chocolate, ditch the cottage cheese and make an altogether more exciting resolution.

Skydiving anyone??

I dreamed a dream..

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Love them or hate them, when we close our eyes we all dream at some time or other. Many of us will not realise that we do for they are so quickly and easily forgotten upon waking. Have you ever experienced the frustration of trying to remember a dream that despite your best efforts slips away without you even realising? I have, to the point that i resolved to keep a notepad beside my bed to pen down my imaginitive nocturnal ramblings. I have always been of the opinion that dreams are the minds way of making sense of what it either cannot or will not whilst we are awake. 

I dream a lot. I have never quite decided whether it is purely because i think too much and have a chaotic mind or whether it simply is because i have a lot of unresolved past residing in the darkest recesses of my brain. Perhaps a mix of the two although i confess i definitely do fall into the overthinkers anonymous group a lot of the time. Still given the fantastical nature of some of my sleep sodden imaginings, i should perhaps be writing them down and turning them into potentially best selling novels. 

Sometimes though a dream will recur and these i do remember. Perhap the sheer repetitiveness of it drums it into my longer term memory for me to muse over and self psychoanalyse at leisure. Lately though a dream has recurred that i do not have to particularly look at in too much depth for i know the source of it very well.

REGRET.

My dream is of my grandmother, i have news she is dying and i am trying frantically to get to her but cannot. I find myself running through a field of deep mud and getting nowhere as is often the case in a dream. As i run i pass people i know and frantically hold out my hands begging for help. One by one they shrug and turn away or just ignore me completely until i say desperately ”But i was there for you!!” Then one parody turns and laughs saying  mockingly ”That doesn’t mean that we are there for you”

The result of the dream is always the same i am so bogged down that i do not make it in time. Whatever the visual interpretation my brain put on it the facts are still the same, i have a lifelong regret that i did not make more time for her in the years leading to her death and this is something i have had to learn to live with because the clock cannot be turned back however much we wish it. Perhaps the bigger regret is the time wasted on meaningless things and on those people who deserved my time much less than she. Whilst i know she would not judge me and never would she think ill of me, still i feel that i have failed.

I have always tried my best not to regret things i cannot change for it does little good and in the end merely holds you back.  The curious thing about this dream however,  was the presence of people within it who either were not present in my life at the time or who have no relevance to the situation. I have not yet concluded what significance they have in the dream but i wonder if perhaps it is my own inner awareness warning me not to make the same mistakes again. Perhaps i am guilty of placing too much importance on things and people who do not matter and neglecting those things and people that could be a cause of regret. Maybe it helps to remember who were those who were those who were there for me when i needed someone and who were those who caused me the pain to need someone in the first place. Whatever the meaning it seems sure that this dream is determined to recur until i have taken heed and acted upon it. 

Life is full of regrets. Some we can live with and some may haunt us for the rest of our lives, emerging in our dreams as sad reminders of the mistakes we have made. I do not want to spend my life running through mud chasing regrets, especially the ones that will be the kind to haunt my dreams. It seems, at least for me, that it is time for change although much thought is needed as to what these changes will be. I cannot ignore the fact that lately i have been less than enamoured with some aspects of my life and a redress is in order. Perhaps then i can return to my fantastical dreams of the purely fantasy nature and sleep more soundly than i have of late. 

Still if one is going to be a Panda then at least one should look like a Panda and thanks to a few sleepless nights i most definitely do.

Sweet dreams everyone!! 

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