Uncommon Sense - truth less ordinary

Unfinished business

2016-01-23T14:50:00.001-08:00

First grandchild - a very proud Papa!

On this day of my birth, I pay tribute to a man who became a first time father as a result of my entry into the world. A complex personality that never failed to generate strong feelings in his family and those in his intimate circles.

My father was a troubled soul; his emotional baggage was heavy and, sadly, was lost to us too many times. He never found a worthy mentor and suffered from a lack of a strong, male role model (following the early demise of his own father). The seventh child raised in a large family (of 14) who felt smothered and overlooked. As his widowed mother sank deeper into poverty, my father acquired “a chip on his shoulder” from being disadvantaged and impoverished.

Poverty hurts when you know you are destined for more. My father had nobility in his blood being the descendant of a knight of Queen Victoria’s realm; a leading barrister of the day. My father tried to live up to his honourable ancestry and often failed. The odds were set against him and minus a rigorous work ethic, things fell apart.

Underprivileged, penniless and without a sound education, his thoughts were mostly of escape to prosperous pastures. However progress never comes easy. Along with opportunity and freedom comes responsibility in tow (a wife and two children). In a Western country, though a foreigner, he felt at home. My father was a man of many mood swings – the not so sweet chariot of an early pioneer was to be his lot. He’d chop and change careers like the wind trying to find the elusive niche but nothing quite fit.

Today, he’d be judged differently for his penchant for change and the unremitting search for a passion project. Restless and free spirited, he had the will to try everything…..and even fail….. successes were far and few.

My father was a paradox – rarely happy but at the same time a “bon viveur”. Socially, he was a raconteur and the life and soul of a party. Other times at home, he was withdrawn, short tempered, a loner and depressive.

In the last century, no one seemed interested in your mental health. Your mind was your own business and, if you didn’t mind it, you’d be locked up for your trouble! My father’s mind was in turbulence. He was suffering from the mental trauma of being different – a new arrival, olive skinned who didn’t have much on paper to be proud of.

Youth was hard on my father and life even more so. To us it appeared that fatherhood was a burden and matrimony an onerous undertaking. The irony of arriving in a land of new possibility and yet to be strangled by duty and obligation; anathema to his free and restless spirit.

He was a rebel with and without a cause. The butterfly of happiness never settled on his shoulder and misery seemed to grip his mind; the cloak of anger was hard to remove.

How did these behaviours affect his family? His wife bore the brunt of the many dark nights of his soul and clutched on to religion - an escape from the bleakness. His sons were perhaps affected most of all and there was no closeness or sharing for them to learn important life lessons. A dearth of emotional intelligence in an era where that concept was relatively unknown.

As for me, the only daughter, I fared better. My father would say that he preferred daughters to sons perhaps not fully understanding that each one would not have been like me!

I was not a Daddy’s girl by any means and hugs and kisses were few. My father could not show positive emotions easily and reverted to type each time. However, there was a bond – almost psychic. Without speaking, I knew my father’s moods – good or bad. He said I reminded him of his mother who’s middle name he gave me.

As his health failed, my father and I had many shared moments but there was an invisble barrier that neither of us could penetrate. He had built a wall around himself and it didn’t come down enough to reveal his full vulnerability. Age and illness brought a sense of defencelessness but my father remained proud and knowing.

In his last weeks in hospital, he had little idea that his final days were near. It was difficult to see a the decline of a man’s health and independence (which he’d fought to preserve all his life). Dependence he abhorred and being treated as an invalid was against his nature.

Fifty years before, he was a man with a grand plan whose courage was often thwarted by the inner demons. He was weak……and strong; jovial…..but sad; argumentative……and misunderstood; cantankerous……and yet not unloving.

His grandchildren he adored and showered them with time, attention and gifts. With them, he shared his heart and bits of his soul, showering them with time, attention and gifts. Having been careful with money all his life he was generous and lavish with them. He was fighter to the end and I will remember the last 48 hours of life with poignancy and tenderness.

So what did my father teach his daughter? Resilience to the slings and arrows of fate, boldness and an iron will. His insecurities I have conquered, his ambition I have inherited, his passion inherent in my character, his witty sarcasm brought smiles and his fight for survival…. is my fight too (albeit in better circumstances).

I thank my father for all that I am and for what yet I can be. I am grateful for it all – the good, the bad and the ugly! I thank him for my life and the new world he brought me to. He was not the best shepherd and his “flock” often “got his goat”…. but who he was…. I am still.

Death leaves an eternal void. There’s a father shaped hole in my life. It is eight weeks to the day of your departure and the word “Dad” is redundant. Until that meeting in the great beyond, Dad, there’s unfinished business that lies between you, me and eternity.

My father's daughter

2015-12-28T18:09:00.001-08:00

Today, it's just four weeks since my dad left this earth. Time moves as fast as it does slow and I feel as if I've slipped into a crack that I don't wish to come out of.

I want to always remember who I was when my father was alive. Our identities are intricately bound with our parentage. Who are parents were / are makes us uniquely ourselves.

So who was I? I was my father's only daughter and that was a special responsibility. It made me want to understand my father though this was a no easy task.

My father was a complex man; a man whose moods could change like the wind. He was all four seasons in a day and winter could be especially bitter and summer fleeting.

My father was a fearsome character and the pantomime villain of my youth. He would have made a fascinating psychological case study. He was no hero in the ordinary sense and his many flaws were all too often visible but there was an invincibility about my father that impressed.

My father was never defeated by life's challenges and he was aspirational. He didn't often succeed with his labours but was ever enthusiastic to move on to something bigger and better.

My father was a man with little memory of his own father and this was a huge void in his life. There were insufficient male role models in his youth and his mother was everything to him.

My father was a raconteur and shared with me stories of his early childhood. It was a tale of hardship following the death of his father and his widowed mother was left to raise 14 children on a paltry pension.

My father was not a warm person and built a wall around himself. He was a loner but not lonely. He liked company but quite often pushed people away.

My father was obsessive about current affairs. He loved to watch the news and any political programme. He knew more about conditions on the other side of the world than of events in his own house!

My father never suffered fools gladly and rarely made allowances. He was hard and fast in his judgements and I rarely remember him admitting to an error!

My father always felt he was destined for higher things so was a restless soul. No home, job, location ever satisfied. He was a man who loved to make plans.....the crazier the better!

My father loved a good laugh and sarcasm was his preferred style. Since we shared the same sense of humour we often had plenty to laugh about!

My father and I shared a psychic energy. I could often feel his feelings.....negative emotions were the strongest.

My father was misunderstood. He left this earth in an abrupt way. He clung onto life and would never prepare for death.

The end would have been a shock but hopefully his soul has had safe passage to the other side.

My father never settled and stayed hungry. He was constantly looking for the next best thing......even when he hadn't a clue what that was.

Four weeks on from my father's death, I am a changed person. Someone is missing and will always be for me. My father's place will never be filled. There's an emptiness that reminds me that he is gone.

Gone.....but only from this physical world. He lives on in me...and my brothers.....and that's a whole new world of discovery.

My father's daughter I will always be.....and for that I'm proud.

Dad, whatever you're doing in eternity.....rest easy!

💜

Affluenza

2015-10-23T07:40:00.000-07:00

Affluenza!

It’s official – I’m suffering from affluenza and regular bouts of temporary amnesia. I say this as I find myself in an ever increasing consumeristic mind-set. The particular strain of affluenza I have succumbed to is aspirational. I can’t afford full blown affluence yet and I sometimes forget that I have a lot of good stuff that makes for a comfortable life. But I want more….more goods, gadgets and toys to come into my life but, right at this moment, it’s not an option and cannot be for a long time…..at least until I achieve full solvency and rehabilitate my debt wish!

The easy methods of racking up debt is a sign of a deep, societal malady. Easy credit means we spend, spend, spend. Affluenza is a socially transmitted disease and we wouldn’t suffer as much if we were hermits living in caves. It’s like an air-borne virus and anyone with a nose for hunting down the best bargains will sooner or later catch it. It’s only when governments apply austerity measures that we remember to slow down. Cutting back is a cruel reminder that we have over-consumed and now have to pay for it.

Economists and psychologists advise that the rise of materialism leads to greater inequality resulting in unhappiness. In addition, overwork, stress and anxiety aggravates the condition until affluenza is like the common cold. My question is…. when has society ever been equal? I’m far above and far below some of my planet sharers in terms of income and influence.

Keeping up with the Jones’ is becoming a thing of the past. Firstly, we don’t really know who lives in our neighborhood anymore and, whatever they have, we only wonder if it was acquired by legitimate means. I don’t think we covet our neighbours’ goods since we don’t have enough time for gossiping at the garden gate. Desperate housewives are the paragons of affluenza: idle, rich, married and dysfunctional – that’s the 21^st century Mrs Jones and she’s finding that the neighbours are keeping up nicely – thank you!

Affluence provides opportunities, freedom and visible signs of economic progress though satisfaction is not part of the package. We’re still not happy bunnies as we strive for more and we rarely feel that we have enough. In truth, we probably have a lot more than we need or want but the affluenza bug weakens the will.

Less is definitely not more if you’ve ever travelled to impoverished places where vulnerable familiies live in a shack with poor sanitation, well below the breadline, ekeing out a living on rubbish dumps. However, you’ll have noticed that their social exchanges are rich. They care about each other. They share whatever they have and that includes a smile. They may be down trodden but they are not down hearted. Their life force is strong as they battle through adversity. Though many will always be victims of circumstance they believe in God and future prosperity.

We’ve never had to so good and that’s the main cause of our collective amnesia. We just don’t remember what it’s like not to have a job, money, enough food, car, insurance, mobile phone, PC or plain-old fashioned boredom. That’s what you call lucky and I guess we live in a paradise of sorts.

Affluence provides an elite membership to the “haves” club. Our forefathers paved the way for a brave new world of riches and the least we can do is enjoy it. Western civilization has become a little sick at heart. We want progress but when it comes it feels like millstone around our necks. We have dual incomes/ cars, multiple cells, homes, condos, domestic help, foreign travel, eating out, shopping, nail art, tattoos but there’s a hole inside of us. Within, we’re unfulfilled but for our dream and desires to be curbed or realised it can take a few lifetimes.

Overthinking is also a sign of excess. We plan, prepare, prioritise, organize, evaluate, discuss (endlessly) until we hit burn-out. As we breakdown we get full-blown amnesia and stare at our credit statement in disbelief when it arrives. We drown in whirlpools of guilt as we ruminate on those”little things” that have cost us dear.

Insecurity is a constant inner driver and he /she is a workaholic! Affluence has not provided us with a good night’s sleep or the ability to enjoy one day at a time. Still, we can’t go backwards and the only thing ahead of us is the open road.

I’ll take the high road, no matter the challenges, but I’ll bless the low road so that I can still be humbled by life’s largesse. For now, I’ll protect myself against the bitter backlash of affluenza with a large dose of daily gratitude. It’ll take a ton of conscious effort (and energy) to stop the onslaught of taking-it-for-granteditis but I know I can do it – atishoo!

And God said.....................

2015-10-23T07:25:00.002-07:00

And God said…….

God and I have had an on/off relationship , like many of my relationships. It’s tough love. God is perfect; I am not; but he allows me to bask in the rays of love now and then. He’s all knowing and all seeing and I’m just blinded by his power. I don’t see what he sees so whenever I ask for something he knows better. “Anything you can do, I can do better,” doesn’t apply here. God doesn’t play games with mortals but he sure has a wicked sense of humour.

God is supposed to be a positive being yet he/she says “no” to my whims and fancies. On the few occasions that he says “yes” then I know that God is a woman. It’s gender thing, men love to say “no”(and spoil the party) and women just want to say “yes” to every designer thing that comes their way.

If God is love then he takes long vacations. I’ve felt his absence many times in my life. Feeling unloved distorts your emotional vision. In the dark moments, I crave for comfort and escape into a fantasy world where love and warmth come attached with a price tag.

I used shoes, clothes and cosmetics to get through the emotional dramas in my life whilst neglecting my spirit. New and shiny things are a distraction and they do make me happy….yes they really do. God wasn’t convinced.

I guess I was always looking for a hero; someone who’d save me from myself. There were a few likely candidates but I was too insecure to trust them completely. Timeless wisdom says “love like you’ve never been hurt, dance as if no one’s watching and shop as if your Louboutin’s aren’t killing you – I couldn’t…. I was a fraud.

During trying times, God was watching over me but he must have been shaking his head in disapproval knowing that I was crashing headlong into disaster. But since he gave me free will, I thought I’d show him that he was wrong and I was right.

As you know, God never makes a mistake but he certainly allowed me to – many of them – for a very long time – until I decided it was enough. I had to stop the less than loving things I’d heap upon myself, the biggie was allowing people to walk all over me.

When I eventually asserted myself, I made enemies. God may be inclined to love them but I found avoidance a better path. I had to detach myself, retreat, in order to create an improved version of myself. God rarely says“yes” to any of my schemes; he knows their driven by my ego and he doesn’t like it much. I guess he’s a damage limitation agent.

How does he know what’s right for me?

When I asked for a hero, God said : “ No, a hero is what you make of yourself with the talents you have”

When I asked for stability, God said: “ No, instability will change your misguided priorities”

When I asked for someone to love me, God said: “ No, you have to find enough love inside of you first”

When I asked for comfort, God said: “No, you’ll become a slave to it”

When I asked for fame, God said: “ No, you may forget who you really are and anyway fame’s overrated……….take it from me!”

When I asked for money, God said: “No, your mind is richer”

When I asked for more time, God said: “No, you’ll only waste it!”

When I asked for a near perfect life, God said: “Impossible!”

When I asked for a cleaner kitchen/bigger house, God said: “Bricks & mortar alone don’t keep you warm at night. Make your heart a sweet home for the weary and troubled.

When I asked for a newer car, God said: “ Travel with a light heart and you’ll always arrive at your desired destination.

When I asked for the latest fashion, God said,” No, fill your heart (not your wardrobe) with precious things”

When I asked for beauty, God said: “look in the mirror!”

When I asked for a loving partner to take care of me, God said: “I am your resource and in developing spiritual skills you’ll find him…or her.

When I asked for courage, God said: “ No, being human is courage enough, you’re just too stubborn to believe in it.”

When I asked for a problem free life, God said: “ No way! Its unnatural and you’ll never find your spirit.

When I asked for inspiration, God said: “you are one to me!”

When I asked for my dreams to come true, God said: “you are mine and I believe in you”

When I asked for unconditional love, God said: “you cannot ask for something you already know and have. Allow yourself to be the giver and receiver and go with that flow!

When I asked for the good times to last, God said: “No way honey, nothing’s built to last in your world!”

When I asked to be saved, God said: “I’ve done it so many times”.

God obviously has great faith in me but he continues to “not deliver” (to my plain, earthly eyes) on my prayers and wishes. Perhaps he’s dreaming a bigger dream and my mind just can’t grasp it all.

Life is like baking a cake though some of the ingredients are missing. Some items are purposely removed, by yours truly, so that he/she can see what we’ll produce. We’ll mix and mould and still come up with something palatable, if we focus on doing our best.

That’s all God wants from me – my best – and I’ve been asking for the moon from an undiscovered galaxy.

Does God answer my prayers? Not in the way I want but it’s okay I’m finding out what I’m made of – and where I need to make a few corrections. Whe God says“No”…it’s not a negative; it’s a filter for the impurities. Say it out loud and then perhaps there’ll be room for a few good things (and people) to come into your life…….and stay.

The importance of being important

2015-09-17T05:14:00.003-07:00

At each stage of life we don’t always know what we want and that creates problems.

In youthful innocence, we often don’t know who we are or what we truly want. In childhood we are certain that we don’t like green food on our plates and throw a mighty fit if our parents try any form of encouragement that’s not a handsome bribe! This is the stage where we throw the baby (and the water) out of the bath and discover consequences.

All of life is a journey of learning how to learn, think, discover and evaluate our options. It’s the rocky road of learning from our mistakes which often entails putting our hand into the fire to see whether our skin is inflammable…..its not! We are not fire proof but we still have to fight the fires of life that threaten and sometimes consume us daily – financial struggles, emotional upheavals, mental strains, physical injuries and a host of moral dilemmas.

Our teen years are a time of great challenge. This is the time when a brain becomes a mind and gives the body a nudge that it houses a soul. Biology tells us we have a beating heart but it becomes more than just a human organ in our teens and young adulthood. We acquire the faintest notion that we can either keep hold of it ( until we’re centered) or give it away to another ( lost )soul and be reckless. You will lose or give away your heart a few times during the “wonder” years but you won’t find it in the “lost property” office. In fact, your heart may be returned to you in a very poor state – fractured or even completely broken. Such is youthful abandon that we discharge of our precious cargo to another immature and deceitful heart that plays with it and may even damage it beyond repair.

This problem worsens when our mind and heart have parted company or are at odds with each other. We listen to our heart at the expense of our mind; both are false friends when hormones have a stranglehold on our mental capacities.

In our twenties, when the brain chemistry is firing on (nearly) all pistons we’re still figuring it out. A young man tinkers with his first car and decides to pursue motor mechanics as a trade when what he really wants to be is tearing up the Formula One race track at mind boggling speeds. A young girl studies dance which leads into bit parts in television and theatre but what she really wanted was to be was a drama queen and strut her stuff on stage.

Choose wisely in your twenties or you might be stuck in some uninspiring environment. Marriage could be one of them. A true marriage is one of hearts and minds not just living spaces! Embarking on a cosy twosome is like a curious adventure but what you learn in this hunting ground will either make or break you. Be wary and be warned!

Oprah shares an instructive tale of her twenties when she was a humble TV news anchor wondering if that was all that life had to offer. When she consulted a fortune teller, it was predicted that what she truly wanted was to achieve stardom and light up the world……and that’s exactly what Oprah did next!

Playing it safe and hiding our light “under a bushel” is making out to the world that our ambitions and higher thoughts are of no value. We find ourselves in the grip of low self esteem and never dare to climb out of that pit until we’re older and less agile.

In our thirties there’s a pressure to “settle down” which invariably means getting onto the mortgage gravy train and remaining on it for at least the next twenty five years. By that time, we have a few mouths to feed and have completely lost a work/life balance; in fact, we live to work and become wage slaves to public and private companies. Our hopes remain alive and staying alive to run the rat race is our greatest wish but our dreams slip away. The dream of owning a farm, villa, allotment is overtaken by the fear of not having enough so we hitch our wagon to capitalism and ride the storms.

Again we do what’s important, what’s required of us but we make ourselves unimportant in the process. Have you ever known a CEO of blue chip company to be concerned about his own or employee’s health? There’s no health & safety policy that states that a human is not designed to be inactive and sitting down in front of a radioactive screen for up to 8 hours. Knowing and doing what’s important are life long challenges on the human journey.

Once we hit our 40’s, those who’ve put themselves last and made ridiculous sacrifices to NOT progress themselves by taking defensive and indecisive positons suffer greatly. The pain is mostly psychological and the fight/flight mode you’ve used as your default setting requires analysis. In middle age there’s realisation that we are too valuable to be exploited by family and bosses.We can practise saying “yes” to our dreams and “no” to the obstacles such as partners and friends. We disengage from the herd and find our own voice and path.

Finding our sense of importance is not be confused with vanity. Being conceited is an ugly trait though you might think you look good in your Christian Louboutin’s. Being well read is more important than being well dressed though society may judge the book by the cover. The more discerning will certainly seek out the author and make relevant judgements.

We want to be important to others but it shouldn’t come at an astronomical cost to yourself. Don’t give yourself away lightly; make sure he or she’s worth it……….and they may not be!

Life is an important journey and it is eternal too. So develop, believe, nurture, love and educate yourself……its important to be important and much more.

Loneliness and the long distance writer.....

2015-05-22T07:37:00.002-07:00

Writing is a solitary pursuit, that’s a given. There’s usually no one around when you face that blank piece of paper or blank screen. I’m a writer that requires silence – pin drop if possible. Some writers have acquired the zen like habit of being able to write around a chaotic family life, a commitment filled professional life and a host of other obligations.

Writing is not for wimps. It’s one of the toughest disciplines in the art of soul expression. Writers, especially the prolific kind, bare their souls and wrestle with their inner demons to birth their literary offspring.

True writers, in my humble opinion, are born not created. It’s a gift that’s placed into their hearts long before the gestation period on the earthly plain. The flair for prose and poetry is an ethereal quality that challenges even those who are born with it. Writers can’t quite believe or accept their skill-set to place words that engage, alarm, mystify and de-mystify, cajole, frighten, relax, hearten weep and question. Words are ultimately powerful, they can build bridges and start wars.

A writer has a responsibility just as a sprinter has when he faces the open road. Everything hinges on mind and body coming together to deliver a high quality race and finish. They know that everything rests on their daily exertions to fill the pages and maintain endurance.

Non-writers, who believe that they entered this world without a gift are in awe of the published writer. They erroneously believe that plots/characters pour forth from the writer’s mind like the foamy waters of the Niagara. Nothing could be further from the truth.

Loneliness, frustration and plagued with constant doubts is the writer’s brief. Writers become anti-social as they lock themselves away behind closed doors and write/tap away into the small hours. They don’t answer their telephone and barely keep up with current affairs. If they did, it would severely detract from focusing their energy on their work-in-progress.

A work in progress demands attention to detail. Little things to writers mean a lot – a sneer, scowl, glance, glare, stare, laugh and grin. A writer feels every word and enters into this world he/she creates and then makes friends with their characters – not just the protagonist but the villain too. A story line is scattered with the dark and light scenes – the endless struggle between good and evil is played out until the climax is reached.

Good writers are usually insecure. Confidence comes with practice and even publication but it’s a difficult path that writers tread. Each page challenges the grey matter to spew a lava of unfettered thoughts to obliterate the whiteness on page and screen. To write and have someone read your efforts is like standing in a room of strangers – naked. To hear your words critiqued is like having a knife twisted into your heart. To hear them appreciated is – after the initial shock – like drinking in the nectar of the gods.

A writer, however, is rarely satisfied. A writer is only as good as his/her last book. A sequel beckons as soon as the manuscript is submitted and prepped by agents and publishers. Readers are voracious and want more and the voice in the writer’s heart and head are demanding.

A writer’s work is never done; it’s a life long pursuit. After months of writing and revising - tired but triumphant - a writer emerges from his cabin to appreciate the world anew. Word –worn but inspired to live on to write for another day. Everything is remarkable to a writer – a brushed blue sky, a lovelorn nightingale, torrents of rain, gnarled hands, a gurgling stream. Senses are constantly on alert to the ordinary and extra-ordinary quality of the world.

The only failure in writing is to stop. A good writer knows that this is an endless race. Loneliness is a necessity. It’s a friend that sits with you when inspiration and dedication join forces to hone a masterpiece.

My atomic family and other animals

2015-05-15T05:00:00.004-07:00

In the brave new (developing) world, we experience the post natal effects of delivering nuclear babies who are now on the verge of adulthood (also known as teenagers in the 21^st century). The progeny of the nuclear and non-nuclear families are beasts that are hard to tame. They are certainly not the shy wallflowers or awkward, gangly youths of yester year. No, these are confident, polished homo sapiens for whom age is just a number.

Currently, I share my “cage” with two cubs – aged 17 & 19. My eldest man-cub has reached the ripe old age of 26 so we are starting to have some adult conversations if not for the fact that he’s content with non-communication. I recall the three bundles of joy that I carried home tenderly from the hospital. At that time, I was enamoured with their apple cheeked, dewy eyed stares as they surveyed their new world. At one time, during a severe bout of colic, I had the fanciful notion that my elder cub did not want to be in this amniotic-less dense world…….and sometimes I wonder about it still.

Nevertheless, I gave my best to motherhood and was depleted and deprived in the process. Of course, this is the maternal brief that women sign up for when they embark upon this sacrificial journey. A mother gives and a child takes. A mother goes without so that children may go with……. all the trappings of a “happy childhood”. In today’s world, I’m reliably informed that the list goes beyond food, clothes and mere shelter. The in-your-face teen requires fast food laced with oil, sugar and salt, clothes with designer labels and a home that’s modern - complete with a hot tub, private gym, roof garden, home cinema, dance studio, sound proofed music room, a den to “chillax” in, garden with a barbeque, swimming pool for regular pool parties and a host of Apple/Nintendo products.

Despite the enticing list above, the modern teenager is stressed and usually busy doing nothing. It (and I make no distinction between male or female cubs) has decided that hormones are weapons of mass destruction and may be launched at regular intervals at their care givers – parents, teachers, siblings and whoever else is in the firing line. Whatever is zinging through their endocrine system makes them speak/cry in a high pitched tone (aka whining and whinging), dress as if they’ve just got out of bed (they have!) and generally act so nonchalant that a rocket is required to be placed up their derrieres to get them moving. Perhaps NASA can work on a space program that would send teens to the galaxy since they’ve had a ton of experience of being in space (lazing around in their beds/on the sofa)…….to the point of becoming a waste of space.

The cute, swaddled bundles have evolved into elongated avatars that lurch from room to room searching for food/xbox/nintendo like heat seeking missiles. They grunt unintelligible syllables that is “street talk” that desecrates the Queen’s English. Profanities are fashionable so vocal pollution is the new age vernacular. “Whatever” is their mission statement and that’s the most civil word in their limited vocabulary. Teens also sprout bulbous pieces of plastic that they wear on their heads like a tribal headress. Headphones are big, small, tiny and essential. They have two purposes : one is for the humble pleasure of music listening, the other is to drown out the voices of their parents.

Their ears are attached to headphones and their eyes are fixed on a screen. The computer is king and you can hear banshee like screaming if the broadband signal drops out. Survival for a teen today doesn’t depend on food, water or loving parents. This new breed need “FiFA, Football Manager, Call of Duty, Grand Auto Theft, Instagram, Twitter, What’s App, Tumblr, Snapchat, Candy Crush, ” – the virtual world is their whole world. Facebook is like visiting grandma’s home – its cosy filled with goodies (for the eye) that will tantalise the senses.

Vloggers are their messiahs. Teens (and others) “like” and “follow their “role models” (of which parents are no more). Parents, in the electronic age, are less important than “keeping up with the Kardashians!”

Teenagers are the new demi gods and goddesses; a conglomerate with unlimited liability. A demi-god can force you to vacate your own home just so that he (and you) can get a bit of peace. A demi-god is the ultimate ruler of his world and has dominion over his bedroom (which you shall not enter though you own the house!) A demi-god has control of finances – his and his parents’. A demi-god has his own life…..far removed from what we know as a life. Being unwashed, unkempt, foul-mouthed, lazy, devouring every kind of junk food and using 10% of their grey matter is not my idea of acquiring a healthy spirit.

Family is an ever decreasing circle. At some point we’ll part ways and there’ll be silent spaces everywhere. My teens have given me an idea that replacing a crowded nest with an empty one is an attractive prospect. They’ve forced me to re-evaluate and speculate……

Q: What would a life of my own look and feel like?

A: Pretty darn wonderful (at this point in time)!

Family will come and go but animals remain. In our case, it’s a little, white rabbit that will retain our eternal affection. What we can’t always share with each other, the deepest and finer feelings of love are showered on the bunny….and he knows the best and worst of us. Once the teens have morphed into proper adults, finished university and are climbing the corporate ladder, Diety-dom will be a distant memory. A salaried position will make them snap out of their divinity double quick.

My family is dysfunctional, difficult, frustrating but growing. Personal growth spurts are inevitably challenging in teens and the wider family. My own “growth” into super-woman has been no doubt testing to them so pain – as a giver and receiver - is the ageless familial exchange.
I reproduce therefore I suffer and celebrate in equal measure.

Perhaps I’m too close to the mountain (of their talents) to appreciate the view. In the near future, the vista will change and when I stand back I’ll be able to understand the light / dark shades of character, wit and unique personalities. Until then….I’ll live this upside down, tumultuous life, gather my frayed nerves and keep calm!

Author Interview - Kathy Cyr

2015-04-23T07:07:00.000-07:00

Dear Readers

I’m excited and proud to introduce one of my dear friends from across the pond.

Kathy Cyr – a new novelist, who has written and published her first (middle grade) book in the

Max Hamby series – Max Hamby and the Blood Diamond.

Kathy is a home-schooling mom who had a burning dream to be published and buckets of talent to match her ambition. Despite a number of personal challenges she devoted herself to her craft….and…. she did it!

She is an inspiration to me and I hope you’ll buy her book and share it with your own middle graders who have an appetite for magical fantasy.

Currently on Book 2, Kathy is beavering away to continue Max’s intrepid adventures battling with the dark forces that stand between him and his goals.

Written in an engaging style, young readers cannot fail to fall in love with its protagonist, his side-kicks and the other colourful characters that accompany him on this journey.

I know as an avid reader (and sporadic writer) myself I also like to get to know the woman behind the writing. So Kathy answers twenty questions I posed on life, death and everything in between.

Below that you’ll find a writer Q&A session where Kathy discusses her writing life.

Kathy has a regular blog and is a pretty good artist too: http://www.kathycyr.weebly.com

@kathycyrwriter

facebook.com/authorkathycyr

Kathy Cyr……

The prized possession you value above others…..

My husband and children above all else.

Materialistic things: my 30 year old teddy bear. I still sleep with it and probably always will.

The biggest regret you wish you could amend….

I have many regrets, but in truth, they are lessons learned. The choices I have made have not always been right and there have been countless ups and downs, but they lead me to my husband, the gifts of my two beautiful children and the chance to learn more about myself daily.

The temptation you wish you could resist…..

Temptation knocks at the door daily, as I'm sure it does for others. It is difficult to withstand its enticing call, but I try, to the best of my ability.

The book that holds an everlasting resonance…..

The Harry Potter series. I fell head over heels in love before the first half of the first book.

The priority activity if you were the Invisible Woman for a day…..

I'd be curious to see how others act behind closed doors. Most people put on a good front and never truly let their down, relax and just be themselves.

The pet hate that makes your hackles rise…..

I don't hate anything. There are some pet peeves, but I try not to put too much into them.

I'd be angry all the time, if I did.

The movie you can watch over and over…..

All Harry Potter movies, Ratatouille, Paranorman, Rio, Brave, etc. I love children's animated movies.

The figure from history you most admire…..

The ones that come to mind first are John F. Kennedy, Martin Luther King, Jr., Mother Teresa, Ghandi, Princess Diana. They all wanted and tried to make a difference.

The piece of wisdom you would pass on….

From my experience alone: Be strong, be kind, don't wait. Be strong when life takes a scary turn. Be kind because a kind word goes a long way and will always come back to you. Don't wait because life zips by and is too short. Live your life the best you can your way.

The poem that touches your soul…..

I don't have a favorite poem, but I cherish a book of poems (Emily Dickinson) that was given to me many years ago by my great aunt.

The unending quest that drives you…..

To be a (decently) successful author. To be the best mom and wife I can be. To be the best me as humanly possible.

The event that altered the course of your life and character….

Meeting my husband, again, after so many years. Getting married, having my children, publishing my first book.

The song that means the most to you….

I do not have a favorite song, although I enjoy many genres. I don't listen to music that often but when I do it's usually something upbeat.

The way you would spend a fantasy 24 hours with no travel restrictions…..

I would visit Ireland. My family originated from Kildare or Tipperary. My great aunt used to visit family over there, but I never got a chance to learn who they are.

The happiest moments you will cherish forever….

Moving into my first apartment with my husband, getting married, having my children, being published.

The saddest time that shook your world….

The death of my grandma and my dad.

The unfulfilled ambition that continues to haunt you…

Owning our own home.

The philosophy that underpins your life……….

Same as above. Be strong, be kind, don't wait

The order of service at your funeral…..

I have a “thing” about funerals, death/dying, etc. Never discuss it.

The way you want to be remembered……

Remembered as in past tense and is similar to gone, deceased, etc.

Can't get my mind there.

The Plug…..

The first book in the children's fantasy series – Max Hamby

It's the end of the school year and the day of the class field trip. Twelve year old Max Hamby gets locked in a strange room at the museum. It sets off a string of events that sends his life into a tailspin.

An unwitting recipient of a magical stone as a baby, the Blood Diamond has awakened.

Witches. Wizards. Gnomes. Dwarfs. Trolls. Giants.

Max is left reeling when his mother disappears. The Shadow Stone is to blame. The key to a wasteland for the dead and a prison for a five hundred year old witch. It was never meant to be found. Now someone is using it to free the witch and has marked Max for death. In a good versus evil battle, he must use his power to fight for his life and find his mother before it's too late

US: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00NQFKZW4

UK: http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B0

Kathy Cyr – My Writing Life

Who are you and what do you do? 

I am a married mom of two and a children's author.

What genre is your writing?

Middle grade (9 – 12 years old). I love middle grade fantasy.

Where can we find your writing? 

Max Hamby and the Blood Diamond is on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Createspace, Kobo and other online retailers.

Book 2 will be out before the end of 2015.

How much time do you spend on research?

I don't do any research right now. I have a large binder packed with ideas, info, previous research. There's more than enough to see me through the Max Hamby series. I started it in 2010 and have been adding to it ever since. I refer to it all the time.

How do you prepare to write?

Lots of coffee and a clear head. A spot that's clean and organized is good, too.

Where do you get your ideas from?

Ideas come from anywhere. The idea for the Max Hamby series came out of nowhere, as did two other characters I have waiting in the wings. For me, ideas come when the world is quiet and I'm listening.

Do you prefer noise or silence when you write?

Nothing. For the most part, I have to work in silence so that I can hear the characters, see what's going on and feel how they feel. The only exceptions are when the birds are chirping outside.

How many hours a day do you spend writing? 

1 – 5 hours. All my writing is done before noon, otherwise it won't get done.

I love the early hours. It's that time when the sky is just starting to lighten and right before the birds wake. The world hasn't quite woken up yet and that is the time when the ideas and characters are the loudest.

Do you write every day?

I try to write every day. If I can't get to my novel, then I write in a journal. I prefer pencil or pen to paper, instead of digital.

Do you believe in writer’s block?

If I had been asked this question years ago I would have said, yes.

I lost 8 – 9 years because I “thought” I had writer's block.

Now, I believe it was all me. I don't believe my confidence, self esteem and discipline was where it needed to be.

How would you like to grow creatively?

I'd like to be able to write faster.

When did you know you wanted to be a writer?

I fell in love with writing and books as a child. I've always kept a journal. But, I didn't start following my heart till I was in my 30's.

Who or what is your muse or creative inspiration? 

If there has to be a muse, it would be my surroundings. In order to write well, my surroundings have to be relatively calm and there has to be a sense of freedom to let it all hang out. Thus the reason I enjoy writing before or at dawn.

What makes for a great writer?

Persistence. You must push forward every day. Consistency. You must write everyday. Discipline. Holding yourself to some type of schedule, no matter how small, is the only way you'll reach your goals. Heart. You must write with heart, otherwise your work will fall flat.

Believe in yourself. No matter what you want to do, you must believe in yourself. You must drop the walls of self doubt, close yourself off from any and all negativity and just do it. It took me years to learn most of that.

Do you use a computer or typewriter to write?

I don't use a typewriter or a computer for writing.

What software do you use for writing? 

I have LibreOffice Writer and Scrivener, but neither one gets used very often.

I use binders, notebooks, lined or blank paper, etc. For me, it's far more freeing to write long hand.

LibreOffice Writer is what I use when my book is complete.

How do you beat procrastination? Do you have a self-imposed deadline?

I am the, unfortunate, queen of procrastination and distraction. I attempted to place myself on a deadline this year and Book Two has been inching along.

How do you stay organized? 

I have several binders separated into categories, different stories and research.

How do you relax at the end of the day?

The story is always there. I can't turn it off until it's complete. But, I enjoy being with my husband and kids.

Greatest teacher?

My husband. He's a very level-headed extrovert. Ninety-nine percent of the time he thinks with his head and not his heart. He's disciplined, blunt and fair. If there's something to be done, he gets right to it. I am the opposite. I am a quiet introvert who thinks with her heart and is great at putting things off, to an extent. I have a tendency to do for everyone else before I do for me.

Greatest success?

My family, myself and my work.

Writing related frustrations?

I don't have the alone time I need during the colder months, so I am really looking forward to spring.

Choose one author, living or dead, that you would like to have dinner with.

J.K. Rowling. A mom with a dream. I relate to that.

If you could take a vacation tomorrow, where would you go?

Ireland.

Any advice for fellow writers? If you could go back in time, is there anything you'd change or do over again?

I've learned quite a few lessons through the years, so I'm not sure I would want to do it all over again.

The advice I have to offer is get your butt in the chair and write. There's no other way to do it. It feels so much better to do it than to sit around thinking about it. Finishing my novel was the biggest high I have ever felt, but publishing my novel sent me soaring to a whole other level of joy.

Is there anything else you’d like us to know? 

Time is short. Don't waste it. What you write today may seem like a big lump of awful, but within all that mess is a jewel of awesome.

It could be a chapter, a paragraph, a sentence or even a word, but it's there.

http://www.amazon.com/Kathy-Cyr/e/B00NR8SP90

http://www.kathycyr.weebly.com

@kathycyrwriter

facebook.com/authorkathycyr

Singapore Sling-er

2015-04-22T03:16:00.000-07:00

Following the recent death of Singapore’s Premier, Lee Kuan Yew, I offer some humble insights and a critique of his achievements and legacy.

Lee Kuan Yew was a visionary, dictator, tactician and shiny kingpin. He was a political force so fierce that he tamed his country men and worked his government with all the panache of a circus ringmaster cracking a whip.

Born into an affluent Chinese family, LKY was a young man going places and his first port of call was Fitzwilliam College in Cambridge. He studied Law and was admitted to the bar in the 1950’s. Having studied voraciously and feeling the pull from his homeland he thought his education would be better served (sushi-style) on Singaporeans ( snoozing in the Oriental sunshine was the furthest thing from his mind!).

LKY was a doer and the first thing he did upon returning to Singapore ( still under British rule) was to start up his own political party and challenge the Empire. The Empire, having relinquished a great many of its colonies by that time, maintained a stiff upper lip and gave in quietly to independence. LKY was eventually sworn in as Singapore’s first prime minister in 1959.

True to his robust work ethic, he introduced urban renewal, a house building programme, greater rights for women, educational reform and industrialisation. Another initiative was the merger with the Federation of Malayasia – but it proved a bridge too far.

Growing tensions between the Chinese and Malays made Singapore’s position untenable. LKY withdrew in sadness but was ever more determined that “Singapore shall be forever a sovereign democratic and independent nation, founded upon the principles of liberty and justice and ever seeking the welfare and happiness of the people in a most and just equal society."

However, there were seemingly impenetrable obstacles confronting LKY’s government, namely that of Singapore’s lack of resources and a limited defence capability. LKY launched a programme to transform it into a major exporter of finished goods. He also encouraged foreign investment and and did his utmost to ensure a rising a standard of living for workers.

LKY was a skilful alchemist and changed Singapore’s fortunes. His primary focus being on prosperity and less on popularity. With Incisive thinking and a towering ego (and no challenge from an opposition party !) he birthed an efficiently run country that other island nations could learn a thing or two from.

As a small islander myself now domiciled in a larger one, I admire his conviction and courage for stamping out a host of social maladies that hinder economic growth in a number of corrupt and filth ridden colonies.

The problem I fear is that I have been spoilt and pampered by plain old human rights. I feel a society is better with them and my sensibilities recoil at the thought of public floggings. Clean is good but I balk when it verges on an obsessive, compulsive disorder. LKY’s regime may be likened to a visit to your uncle’s home where your aunt doesn’t let you sit on the sofa for fear of creasing the cushions. Excesses can be wearing to the soul!

Sometimes "tasteful tyranny" is necessary to combat ignorance and ring in progressive change. LKY was not a man to wait for ideas to come of age as they did in other First World democracies ((often at the cost of human life).

LKY’s “cruel to be kind” style of government reaped a rich reward. He was an unapologetic autocrat and perfectionist. He took Singapore from Third to First world with ruthless determination and perhaps his way was the only highway.

Today, Singapore is the neat freak of the Indian Ocean and the ultimate stain removal regime. LKY waged a successful campaign on litter, grime, grease, dust, dirt, drugs, vulgarity and disrespect. Gum control is what matters here and what you put into your mouth as much as what comes out of it (spitting/profanity) is a cause for state concern. Spittle is classified as a toxic substance!

There has never been a need for a war on terror - blood and human debris are messy - and LKY would have had no truck with that. Politeness is the order of the day and, a lack of it together with flagrant disregard of the rules will attract a public flogging. This is a society where you are named, shamed and encouraged to report discourtesy. Who wouldn’t welcome a little more civility from airport check in staff, bank tellers, shopkeepers, tax inspectors and the like?

LKY presided over a Bonsai kingdom, weeding out dissension and pruning back human rights (the ones that didn’t fit in with his ideologies!). Vibrant, out-of-the-box thinking that often gives rise to unique innovation would not be altogether comfortable in Singapore. Individualism and creativity are a little frowned upon. Your thoughts are to be kept in check unless you have sought prior permission …....to think.

Singapore may shine like a cubic zirconium in Asia’s crown but this is not a pulsating, effervescent society. If there were state sponsored lobotomies then Singapore might be the market leader. However, cyclonic-turbo vacuum cleaners, shears, strimmers, electric mops, bidets and spitoons would go down a storm.

LKY was the Main Man, both feared and revered. Sweet and sour - he wasn’t everyone’s cup of (green) tea but he knew a few good tricks on how to build a country. History will remember LKY's heroic, rigid and gum-slinging style. Current leaders of chaos (aka third world democracies) please take note of his impressive (and shining) example.

What are little girls made of?

2015-03-30T06:47:00.001-07:00

In the 21st century, girls are made of less sugar and spice and more of a cup cake with attitude, vicissitude and some gratitude. Little girls are now powerfully made and I'd like my little one to grow up one day to be:

.....wise and sassy, though she shouldn’t get bigger than her Jimmy Choo’s. A good head on strong shoulders just so that everyone knows she means business. Life’s tough enough for a girl in the 21^st century – and mine’s born at the tail end of one century and with her destiny to be found in another. She straddles a number of worlds and how she negotiates each one will be where her success (and failure) lies.

The modern woman has a power play role in life’s jungle. Life will pull her in many directions and into differing roles. I have no qualms with that but I’d want her to get past some of the conventions that dog many a career path. Marriage is unnecessary and there’s little security in the male/female coupling any longer – unless she’s extremely lucky. Motherhood is optional and, if she’s not an earth type there’s no need to fret. She can influence the next generation (not as a productionist) in a great many other ways. Procreating ideas and birthing them is a rewarding pursuit and one that I’d wish her to throw herself into whole heartedly.

The pace of her life will be fast and furious. She lives in a disposable society where relationships as much as consumer goods are not built to last. I hope I’ve managed to impart the 3R’s – re-invention, resilience and respect.

Today’s woman is a pioneer. She learns, she believes, she executes and delivers– her motto will be that of a trail blazer. It’ll be a helluva journey and she’ll need all her emotional intelligence to push through the obstacles. She’s forging a path that future generations will walk on. The road I paved for her is in need of renewal and renovation.

She’ll need the stamina for re-invention -business woman cum adventurer. Motherhood should not cut her off from all other interests and pursuits – if you dream of golden sunsets on far off shores or crocodile hunting in the Florida Keys then take the kids. It’s a must that she follows her dreams no matter how dangerous I think they may be - white water rafting or swimming with dolphins – may fortune smile down on her but if it doesn’t she’ll soon know what she’s made of. Her wish list doesn’t always have to meet with my approval though we could share the personal trainer!

! She’ll be a risk taker, a woman who dares often and wins. Her schedule may be crammed with business and personal commitments but she can’t allow herself to become a corporate cog in anyone’s wheel. Rock solid confidence will smash that glass ceiling dear

Cultivating independence of mind will enable her to dance to her own tune. It will be challenging on all fronts and she should be prepared to go to war many times to keep her peace. A resilient spirit will allow her bounce back, up and over. Possessing a tough mind (tougher than most) will be invaluable and a not too tender heart – at least one that doesn’t break easily. Self-respect will be key– a little reverence goes a long way. I’d want her to value herself enough to say no and to say yes to things that deserve merit.

In the financial stakes, she’s got to learn to be part of the solution. The main problem being that when she sees trouble coming she doesn’t have to go on a date with it or even marry it!

She will have earned her degree in Sheconomics – loosely translated as - taking care of her business before someone else does. Shopaholic tendencies and all things bling could undoubtedly be her Waterloo but she’ll curb those desires once she’s had a meeting with her financial adviser. Savings, Savings, savings shoud be her mantra – saving herself (for someone worthy) and for a rainy day.

Finances are the biggest troublemakers in relationships whether it be with a significant other or housemates. She’ll have to decipher the small print and get herself a PEP, that’s NOT Parties, Excitement and Prada! The shecomonist has a good head for figures and it’s more than counting calories and those curves in the mirror.

Tuning in her to her inner voice and negotiating between choices of the head and her heart will be her life’s work. Heroic work awaits her and a healthy self-image that attracts the like minded to her will help along the way. I hope she has a supportive group of real friends and confidants (not merely the electronic kind found on social networking sites).

I wish for her mind to be uncluttered; free from unnecessary slavery, at home and elsewhere. Intelligent leisure is where her passions will lie and may lead to a fulfilling source of income. She should know that the best things in life are not cheap. Working hard for them is no crime but not at the expense of her well-being. Taking time out for spiritual growth and for a chance to smell the roses will be refreshment for her soul.

Her life is hers for the making – it won’t be a fairy tale and the happy ending may take a long time. There’ll be frogs to kiss and dragons to slay…but whatever happens I hope she never forgets…that in the end…. a mother is a girl’s best friend!

Fatal distraction.......Mr Wrong-For-You!

2015-03-30T04:31:00.002-07:00

Mr Credible - is he?!

Did you have a thing for the boy next door, a fellow uni student, a colleague at your first job, a friend’s friend or maybe your boss? Was it mutual or one sided? Did you say a tentative yes or a firm no? Did it become a dalliance or dangerous liaision?

The meeting of a potential partner relies on many factors, fate, synergy, chemistry, the meeting of eyes and minds. What attracts us to people is buried so deep in our psyches that we’ve got no inkling that those deep eyes, dimples and a winning smile can be the forerunner for relationship doom. Dysfunctional characters are no more men in dirty raincoats or down and out saddos. The dark side of human nature flourishes in intellectuals and educated men as much as those at the lower end of the social stratum.

Our fallibility and psychological triggers lie at the heart of the matter. Lack of experience in youth means that we just fall in with the crowd. We’re encouraged to network and create an online social identity and, in all innocence, we share and pass on sensitive information. We know the rules but we flout them for the sake of not being left out of the media loop. When you’re young, anything goes and warnings from elders usually fall on deaf ears.

There’s a new awareness in society about insidious forms of harassment and bullying, effectively the trespass of your personal space, but more the invasion of your mental and emotional recesses. A large number of the perpetrators of stalking and cyber bullying happen to be men and the macabre terminology of psycho, freak, creep have evolved from these practices.

Statistics reveal that 36% of women aged between 18 to 45 have been on the receiving end of this new wave of misogynistic cyber-terrorism. Many divorced and separated women, following a relationship breakdown, have endured a backlash from a husband and partner. If “hell hath no fury than a woman scorned” then some men are putting on a great show for equality!

The knock on effect of mass communication in the Information Age is that via mobile phones and computers we are accessible 24/7. 36% of teenagers are reported to have received an explicit text or email and the senders are alleged to be from their social circle.

Empowered women as we may think of ourselves, we don’t like to acknowledge our physical and psychological vulnerabilities. If we’re harbouring feelings of low self-esteem then we’ll read something more into a stranger’s smile or fleeting glance. It might be an attention seeking ploy when we mistake need for love. It may be flattering at first to have an admirer but don’t let all your defences down. In your eyes this may be a casual encounter as you spy him at the gym, the station or in the supermarket. By the time reality bites, a sinister chain of events is in motion.

Take the case of Ruth Jeffrey, a student, who had been with her boyfriend Shane, since the age of fourteen. Her mobile phone number and pictures were sent to adult websites and shots of her face were superimposed onto glamour models. She endured a long campaign of cyber stalking that near destroyed her emotional well being. If not for the intervention of her parents who hired a company to put tracers on the origin of the messages and sites she may have never have discovered the truth. This psychotic behaviour earned him a spell in prison but the judiciary are still a long way off from providing effective sentencing and rehabilitation.

Obsession can be fatal as we saw in the tragic case of Jo Yeates, a 25 year old landscape architect, who was murdered by her neighbour, Vincent Tabak. It was a week before Christmas and, whilst her boyfriend was away, she had invited her Dutch neighbour one evening for a festive drink. No one knows what transpired but it appears that Vincent Tabak may have tried to make sexual advances towards Ms Yeates and her rebuff sent him into a violent rage that resulted in her death. He is now serving a life sentence.

Each psycho, freak and creep you may stumble upon is unique. They’re charming and persuasive or anti-social and withdrawn. Most of these disturbed individuals seem harmless in appearance and have higher than average intelligence but there’s a short in their emotional circuitry. Psychiatrists will have lengthy case files and may offer eloquent prognosis on the motivations but none of this bodes well for the woman in the street who just wants to get on with her life. Who knows what the combination of selfish genes and a malfunction of testosterone will throw up?

The only advice I can give is to be aware of the first signs of an abusive and oppressive personality.

If he calls or texts just a little too much and becomes angry if you don’t reply instantly.

If he tries to isolate you from friends and tries to come between you and your girlie nights.

If he makes you feel guilty for wanting to spend time on your own pursuits.

If he never allows you to be alone.

If he accuses you of having an affair when you work late.

If he calls and texts repeatedly and wants an instant reply

If he ever uses violence against you, verbal or physical, then it’s time to leave.

Avoid mixed messages and be clear in your intentions, in word and deed. Limit your social networking (you don’t need 740 friends on Facebook or 2000 followers on Twitter!). Put your security and dignity first; resist divulging personal information and use networking sites responsibly. Switch off your mobile and gadgets and have some down time. Never reply to malicious communications and report them to the police.

Improve your self-esteem and you’ll attract a like-minded partner; not just someone who’s distraction from work and social obligations. The maladjusted will continue to be fodder for movie makers. Freddie of Elm Street and Michael from Halloween may have achieved Hollywood infamy but do your utmost to ensure that they don’t have a starring role in your life story.

Dear Future Husband............

2015-03-25T05:25:00.000-07:00

Dear Future Husband....

If you wish to stay dear…… to my heart…… then there’s a few things I preach here that you may endeavour to practise:

When our waistlines grow; we must take steps to eliminate the unhealthy causes; let’s fill our minds more than our bellies!

Remember clean living begins at home so let’s make an effort to keep the atmosphere and our spirits fresh! We'll concentrate on improving our minds more than our home.

We must be friendly motivators to each other’s unique talents and passions. Critiques need only be aired if they’re requested in advance.

Alone time is important but don’t let me wallow in it too much……………you’ll become pointless.

Follow my heart and I’ll follow yours……that way they’ll both stay young without requiring surgery.

A compliment a day keeps divorce lawyers at bay…….so make an effort to notice how I look/cook/wear/do/ say…………but don’t worry about what I think!

Look me in the eye and be sincere…………..fakes are emotional bandits (and I take no prisoners!)

Anger never made a home sweet so keep a check on your fury-o-meter. Get control of it or seek therapy……….I’m not sharing my life space with it!

Surprises are welcome………scented candles around the room, petals scattered across the bed, little treats (for home and away)……………………but leaving a pile of dirty dishes in the sink is not one of them!

Let’s agree to be less self-invested and more invested in ensuring that we are taking care of our partnership (that means the planning and delivery of a host of adventures – date nights, high days & holidays).

Please value my input in your life (more than you do the car) and you’ll be on the right track!

Reminding ourselves of the reason we got together in the first place, at least once a day, will hopefully bring peace to our souls.

If it doesn’t, let’s not become resentful and vengeful but make a plan for a smooth parting of the ways – gracefully and like adults! Don’t let’s damage each other for no other reason than we weren’t good at the game (of marriage!)

Speaking of games; the bedroom is a playground but before we engage in any contact sports chore-play is required.

An unclean and untidy home will never raise an interest……..let alone libido! A chore a day is reasonable but an excessive interest in cleaning means you’re less interested in me!

Marriage is a mental challenge and our brain circuitries are hardwired differently – mine has lots of wires (that often get crossed)and yours are in boxes......so let’s connect the correct wire to the correct box to help us think out of the box!

Our minds should meet at least once a week but this won’t be a “bored meeting”, more of an analysis of our husband/wife satisfaction levels together with a course of action to solve any contentious issues.

Our children are not mini-us. They are individuals who are counting on us to show (not tell) them about the highs and lows........let's lift them higher and never drag them down.

In-laws are outlawed - enough said!

Our marital landscape is a virtual country with border controls, penalties, beautiful sights, fine dining, rules (that can be bent not broken), incisive and positive thinking, progressive principles, breath-taking innovation and a strong work ethic.

Singapore style rules will apply – no litter and certainly no spitting!

When we’re out walking, hold my hand and tell me I’m “the one” and then I’ll know you’re a “keeper”.

Laughter is a great way of getting more air into your lungs (and beats cross country running) but any time you laugh at me…….you could end up in stitches….in hospital!

Be a friend always and a husband when it matters.

When it feels as if I’ve got 99 problems……………..don’t be the hundreth!

I may be right and I may be wrong……..be gentle in your assumptions.

Kindness is not a weakness……..its powerful……so don’t kill anyone with it!

Love is a verb – so action is far superior to speech. But if you use words…….....make them tender or this will be a roller coaster ride to hell. Words can either make or break us!

Money - is funny.....and has a way of fooling us into believing that its the ONLY thing that matters. Let's make wise investments, share our bounties with the less fortunate but never forget that the greatest treasure is found in our hearts.

Most of all, remember I’m a woman…………so handle with love/intelligence/humour…....and a bomb disposal unit!

How to win friends and influence people......

2015-03-09T06:37:00.001-07:00

If Norman Vincent Peale is the godfather of positive thinking then Dale Carnegie was the 20^th century father of motivation. When Mr Carnegie wrote his ground breaking book in 1937 some of his gems no doubt fell on stony ground but a few seedlings managed to take root. The masses quietly succumbed to the persuasive and uplifting language eschewed in his books that aimed to help people develop confidence and build a stoic character. Mr Carnegie believed that financial success is due 15% to professional knowledge and 85% to “the ability to express ideas, assume leadership and to arouse enthusiasm among people”………and how right he was.

The rise of the celebrity culture and a new breed of air heads in the 21^st century has sadly produced several pea brained motivators known as vloggers. Not all vloggers are bad and not all equal and some even stimulate the old grey matter (I'll leave that discussion for another post). The dubious ones, however, invest in a business model that consists of 85% self-aggrandisement activities and 15% of intellectual power. Forget integrity, we want followers!

These are young people who are given a platform thanks to You Tube/Twitter/Instagram/Snapchat to while away the hours telling us what they had for breakfast/lunch/dinner, how they clean their teeth, wash behind their ears, the latest nail varnish trends, their trans-atlantic trips to buy even more cosmetics to clog up their fresh faces, fashion that you might not want to be seen dead in and other fripperies that will end up in charity shops or landfills.

We are treated to virtual tours of their mansion/penthouse, Halloween/Christmas/Easter décor and even their charming pets get a look-in..... puppies, guinea pigs and goldfish……and all paid for by their sheep (and cheap) followers from the “ hits” (think cash registers!) they receive on their YT channel.

I won’t name names but it all seems a bit mindless, senseless and even worthless. It appears that the more cerebrally challenged you are, the sooner you’ll stumble across a get –rich-quick scheme that can hijack the brain cells of the masses (aided by ruthless advertising companies).

It’s a shame that most of these brain cells belong to teenagers whose mushy cerebral cortex is ravenous for meagre intellectual morsels. The daily (You Tube) diatribe also showcases the fanciful idea of presenting vloggers as regular people when in fact they are on the sharp side of business savvy. Wannabe business men and women who'll one day be paraded on global rich lists!

A certain well-known vlogger recently published a book about their online world and made a ton of readies from that little deal. Later it was revealed that the “author”(in cahoots with a publishing company) had hired a ghost writer to birth this “book” into life. On can only presume that the vlogger’s mental capacity was limited and the thought of sitting down to write for long periods would have proved a pain in the proverbial a*** (and no self-respecting vlogger would want to reveal that they had made a dent on their perfect, little tush from engaging in anything like “meaningful work”)!

The other malady on display on their channel is their health issues. Hypochondria has now been elevated to new level whereby it is acceptable to vlog about your ill health and turn your angst into a money spinner. There’d be many more of us who could afford private health care if we shared (and vlogged) about our unique inabilities and hang-ups! The truth is that some vloggers are suffering from the lingering symptoms of affluenza. In a nutshell, they’ve had too much too soon – fame, money and time to kill and....... people to kill it with!!!

Affluenza is a hedonistic affliction. The affluent are anxious. The affluent are weak minded. The affluent are (sometimes) ungrateful. The affluent are influential vloggers. They may even raise anxiety levels by creating bling-envy for the trinkets they pick up in designer stores. How healthy is coveting that Tiffany diamond bracelet dangling on a vlogger's wrist?
Its internet highway robbery with a Midas touch; spinning straw into gold and turning your “views” into ready cash.

Vloggers don’t so much care for their following as much as they care about themselves (and their bank accounts). They’ve found a nice little earner funded by yours truly – the fans. Yes, talking about themselves is their number one preoccupation and I’m quite sure Mr Carnegie (or anyone worth their salt) would not approve. To the sane minority, watching vlog updates is about as interesting as watching paint dry (they vlog about that too!).

Vloggers are the winners and you, if you spend precious hours on their channels, are the losers. Vlogging time is money but yours is wasted. So get a life, don’t subscribe, keep your brain cells intact and find a fruitful past time that’s not like like v(f)loggng a dead horse!

If your role model is a thief of your mind and time then you need to re-evaluate life. Take some time out to read/watch/experience someone/something inspirational. There's a new role model for teens; a young owman who raises self worth and actually uses her brain to further humanity though she faced a bullet for her trouble. I won’t name her but she’s worth looking up on a search engine.

Fill your mind with good stuff and a return to humble values (not blowing your own trumpet!) is still the way to win friends and influence people….....positively.

Who is Wisdomona? What is she?

2015-01-23T07:02:00.001-08:00

Wisdomona is many things and being womanly she changes her mind (and clothes) quite often.

She is the egg, pollen, bird, the bee and the butterfly. She knows where she came from, has a destination in view but often loses her way.

Trust is her strength and downfall. She can’t always tell the sincere from the insincere – many a nightmare is dressed like a daydream! Trusting in herself is easy – no one knows Wisdomona like Wisdomona!!

Honesty she’s learnt can get her into trouble but trouble is her middle name. She rarely shys away from a challenge. Uphill, perilous emotional terrain she’s no stranger to; her heart rules her head (unless the latter is overruled!).

Softness of heart and strength of mind she possesses but often gets them mixed up and ends up with no end of moral dilemmas. Should I kick or kiss or stroke?

Creativity is the mother of her inventiveness but she lost the father along the way! Whether father-less or man-less she continues on her path with pizzazz and humour!

Passionate she is about injustice in all its forms. She’s a “problem child” and won’t accept that there’s not enough food on this big, old planet to go around.

Truth she still hasn’t got to grips with – ultimate, absolute, your version, my version? The jury’s still out on this one!

Charisma she’d like to think she has. Birds – of a feather, of prey, eagles, sparrows and vultures all want a piece of her!

Influence she has a little I guess – over her offspring – but she’s a quiet leader and maybe when she’s pushing up the daisies…someone may decide to follow her wisdom.

Humanity she’s got in spades. She’s a people person but knows that by leaving some alone is the only way to gain peace.

Solitary she is; never lonely. Loves, loves her own company. She is “the one” and “a keeper”.

Worldly – she’s not fully got to grips with this planet…and would like to get off it sometimes. To be in this world but not of it. It’s a work in progress with much failure and few successes.

Confidence – aah! She has it but forgets and reverts back to the amoeba stage. She isn’t always aware that her wings were made to fly. There’s a few buzzards who’d like to clip hers anyway!

Unconventional – there’s no other way. She doesn’t see (or cares not to) view life through a muddied, wide angled lens (herd mentality). She’s a one off and anyone who doesn’t believe that…..can just go take a running jump into a dry lake.

Love is the stuff she carries around in her soul but how she dispenses it will intrigue and shock! Love is…..letting go and keeping it away. Love in her book is loading the gun with bullets of peace. Love, to her, is gentle and fierce. Love is fast and slow. Love is moonlight and an electrical storm. Love is a showing not just telling. Love is…….whatever she wants it to be…….but you always want more of hers!

Spirit – she’s a woman with lots. Freedom is her birthright; no chains can hold her.

World-view – aah…..that’s tricky. She rarely watches CNN so doesn’t get her fix from the miseries/absurdities of life.

Money – follows her around but is an uncommitted partner. So she’d like to get a printing machine and make a mint.

Domesticity – she likes to indulge now and then but routine kills off her brain cells so it’s just not her cup of tea or even the washing-up!

Work – its better than begging or stealing so work is necessary to stay connected. If her heart and soul are engaged (and married to ) the job……… it’s a reward.

Leisure – is her pleasure. Whiling away sun filled hours on a soft hammock must be like swinging on a cloud. To stop and stare at softly brushed sunrises and sunsets makes for a rich life.

Children – mini Wisdomonas – there are three. All individual and cute as cupcakes. One is like a long knicker bocker glory – imperfectly perfect and delicious. The other is like a chocolate sundae and any day of the week it tastes good. The last is like a pavlova – elegant, classical andwith more than a hint of the drama queen.

Food – the older she gets, the less she partakes. Mental food suits the palette of life and adds more texture and flavour than anything found in the kitchen.

Animals – she’s close to and hates to eat them.

Reading & Writing – these are at the top of her list (sometimes even ahead of friends and family!) and they have been steadfast companions and she has guilt pangs over the little time she devotes to each of late.

Female – she’s a life long member of the elite sisterhood. God help the twisted mister who comes between her and her soul sista!

Travel – the windmills of her mind keep turning to every corner and she’ll never give up on finding Shangri-La.

Health – seeking the optimum is her mission and you won’t find her in surgeries, clinics or hospitals.

Aging – is just maths (50+1) and who’s counting?

Religion – let’s not go there! It’s divisive but useful for keeping people off the streets.

Home – where is it? No one knows. Wisdomona can make a house a home but she can’t remain in it. She’s rootless and belongs everywhere and no where.

Heaven – is a state and it’s always a bit more heavenly wherever she is……

Wisdomona.........whoever she is........is irrepressible and irascible!

The Pen and the Sword

2015-01-13T06:43:00.004-08:00

Je suis une machine à penser

I don’t need to review last week’s events in Paris to understand worldwide shock and sadness. In the hearts of mankind, good and evil live side by side and engage themselves in a power struggle. It’s a struggle that is as old as the hills and like truth it will never go away.

Man is the sum of many parts – body, mind and soul – but he has not yet fully learnt to integrate or refine the intricate mechanisms that make up life enhancing character and talent. Too often one or more aspects are neglected or sacrificed and the journey towards authentic power is rarely begun.

However, when man chooses to access his authentic power and develop his talents for a higher purpose, you can be sure that he will face many obstacles. The powers that claim to rule our world are mostly corrupt – they restrict the truth and allow lies/misconceptions free rein. Creative artistes - writers, poets painters, sculptors and dramatists in every era have been responsible for pricking global consciousness and fuelling the fires of change.

Words and pictures are proven weapons in the war on terror. Words touch us and break down our egoistic guard whilst an image leaves a lasting impression. There are no shortage of visitors to art galleries all over the world who wish to gaze and mull over the enlightened offerings of the greats: Van Gogh, Monet, Michelangelo, Picasso and Shakespeare.

History reminds us of the Renaissance Period where new thinking was ushered in to raise human worth. Human beings started to be thought of as something more than cattle or chattels. Human suffering was depicted in literature, art and drama brought to the masses. Love and tragedy, pathos and piety were written, drawn and acted out.

Words have power, they move and disturb our psychological sediment. They have to be used with care and consideration. However there is a point of zero tolerance and so words (like the truth) hurt feelings. If we are in touch with our authentic power then we will ask difficult questions of ourselves: do we wish to be hurt by the truth or take comfort from a lie?

Living the lie is what most people opt for otherwise we’d have better human relations, governmental and religious systems. I don’t wish to dwell on the motivations of individuals who find problem solving down the barrel of gun. Picking up the pieces of man’s inhumanity to man, we face the onerous task of dealing with the less enlightened who believe violence will further their erroneous ambitions!

The less enlightened have less than loving thoughts that include not loving their neighbour, not forgiving their enemy and, worst of all, using a sword/gun to silence a perceived threat. Destroying life is easy for the undeveloped mind and constructing a better world challenging to even the most developed.

As long as mankind believes in the sword as a solution then they will continue to die by it. In time, they may decide to lay down the sword and other dehumanising objects and take up a more humble instrument, like the pen, that can still pack a (metaphorical) punch!

Forgiveness is the spiritual strategy but it challenges equally as the war on terror. Anyone who wants to see the power of words can log in to YouTube and watch the sentencing of serial killer, Gary Ridgway (known as the Green River killer responsible for the murder of 48 women) in 2003. At the end of the trial, each of the victims’ families spoke to the perpetrator directly and many of the messages followed a similar theme. Their words were laced with the deepest vitriol for these heinous crimes, except for one.

One grieving father in a powerful moment says: God tells us that we must forgive, as hard as it is. So you are forgiven, Sir.” Only then do we see the stony faced Ridgeway show a glimmer of genuine emotion akin to remorse.

Evil is evil. It is not religious or patriotic. Putting good words and appropriate action together to enhance mankind and rid itself of savagery is the struggle that any sacrifice is worth. Though the cries of the bereaved will pierce our hearts, the war for lasting peace continues. Through the penship of mighty scholars, authors, poets and ordinary heroes will words be sown, to live by and be healed. I think, therefore I am…..and what I am….. is not a killing machine!

Money - what's not to love?

2015-01-06T08:06:00.000-08:00

Rolled over relief

Money can’t buy love we know but it can make misery comfortable! This is a metaphor for the “good life” – the life that we’re sold or coerced into by parents, schools, employers, government and other establishment figures.

Money is the common denominator that affects all of us in paucity and prosperity, for better or for worse and only in death are we parted from it. However, no deathbed regretter ever made mention of the word “money” unless he was a cryogenic Scrooge dedicated to “waking up in the future”!

Money is an earthly distraction and, no doubt the Almightly, regularly splits his sides (and experiences a touch of incontinence) over how careful/careless we are with the “readies” and how we choose to swell the coffers of our favourite brands/stores/charities (not so much the latter!!).

Money is an indefatigable foe and dubious friend. It is an enemy of peace and most importantly, rarely brings peace of mind. This is will strike a contrary note in hearts of the financially challenged. Money is the answer when you hit a low and money can ease discomfort but only when its administered by the wise (and Wisdomona knows a few of these!). If you’re not strong enough to withstand the “slings and arrows” of one’s unique karma then money plays mayhem with the undisciplined mind!

Mental discipline and other positive attributes are not wrought by money “man does not live by money alone!” Money may improve your material position but it cannot improve character. Generosity can make for an uncomfortable bed fellow. Money doesn’t care about your inner life, it is fixated on the externals – furnishings, finery and all manner of fun filled distractions. To be rich in character you need more than a few million dollars. When you can appreciate life without a lot of money then you’ve hit the jackpot!

Ultimately money breeds fear. Fear that it might run out and fear that we will be less loveable without it. Power, position and the size of our assets keeps us hungry for the cake even though we might have the icing! But it is not evil though the hearts and minds of men are.

If thoughts are things then so is money and it buys a lot of things! Some businessmen claim that happiness breeds money – I’m not sure – since money is not happiness. But then what is happiness? I guess the meaning of happiness will be debated upon for centuries to come and each generation will have its own definition. For the purpose of this blog, I wish to define money and perhaps the best way is to explain what money is not:

Money provides a bed but not good sleep. It provides books to read but not knowledge; food to eat but not an appetite; fine clothes/cosmetics but not real beauty; medicines but not optimum health; a house but not a home; luxurious living and travel but not culture; companions/acquaintances but not true friends; leisure activities but not relaxation; religion that doesn’t satisfy the soul; travel to everywhere…except heaven.

Money is not a lot of things but it’s a yard stick and human weakness has us craving more. Look into the eyes of the dying and you won’t see money. The spirit knows that it has to stay in the game of money until earthly needs are met. Once life and money is spent..... you can laugh at it…..all the way to the bank!

I know why the caged bird has flown

2014-06-06T04:33:00.004-07:00

The title of my blog is a tribute to the late and greatly celebrated African-American author and activist, Maya Angelou, who passed into a greater glory last week.

Maya Angelou’s world renowned books were amongst my prized possessions, especially the first part of her iconic autobiography: “I know why the caged bird sings.” This title reached out to my young heart that was also suffering the effects of lovelessness and emotional abuse. In its confused state, my mind and heart walked the journey that Dr Angelou walked, despite the fact that I lived in a different time, place and situation.

The writing was honest, deep, flavoured with unashamed truths that were hard to swallow. It was the bitterness that I related to and I balked at the idea that I too could have been born into this wicked world. Maya’s life and mine were world’s apart but our shared womanly experiences created a bond that is today unbroken.

Knowing what I know now, in my half century year, that statement rings as true today as it did when I was teenager. The world is cruel and it’s still a man’s world where a woman cannot feel safe. Fear and persecution is our unique female inheritance and, each generation, has to reinvent itself in order to keep our daughters….and their daughters……as far from the harsh glare of misogyny as is possible.

Women feel. Women bleed. Women comfort. Women need. Like many of us, Maya was born into a world that she was ill prepared for. Abandonment and betrayal dogged her every step as she suffered for her art and personal progress. Maya was an independent thinker. She didn’t have a strong person to lean on. She was her own mentor.

In the world she inhabited, women were objects of desire and derision in equal measures. We’re still in shackles but they feel a little lighter in the 21^st century as women push against societal conventions, forge a life of their own and pay their own way.

In her writing, Maya’s experiences with the opposite sex were less than fulfilling. The male figures that punctuated her life were either disappointing or disastrous. “A woman needs a man like she needs a hole in her head” could have been an alternative title to one of her books.

Maya didn’t need a shoulder to cry on; hers were strong enough. She didn’t need someone to fix her; she learnt to do that herself. She didn’t need the little luxuries since she’d earned the greatest luxury of all: free speech.

Maya flung the cage door wide open so that no woman need ever feel trapped by her sex. Being oppressed is not a reason to lose hope. Keep the sunshine in your head when the dark clouds gather. Let words be stronger than the sword. Let your voice be heard though the gun may silence it.

The songbird has a short span of life but the song goes on...... so will the spiritual legacy of Maya Angelou.

Why the world needs more queens

2014-05-14T03:30:00.002-07:00

You don’t have to be monarch to be a queen and the 2014 winner of the Eurovision Song Contest proves that drag queendom is alive and well!

Thomas Neuwirth or as his alter-ego drag queen, Conchita Wurst stormed the stage in Copenhagen with a powerful vocal offering of “Rise like a Phoenix” and there was certainly no ash on this phoenix’s feathers! After a pitch perfect and utterly captivating performance, the exquisitely dressed and dark bearded Conchita stole the hard hearts of Europe.

He/She looked genuinely surprised and humbled that her/his performance had evoked so many “douze points” (full marks) from a large number of the voting countries. Top marks were received from some of the die-hard Southern European transgender-phobic hinterland and that in itself was groundbreaking!

Despite the fervent clamours from republicanist supporters to rid itself of monarchies, king and queendoms continue to thrive. The recent Australian tour undertaken by Prince William and his family clearly shows that the anti-monarchist stance is weakening thanks in part due to the birth of cute-as-a button Prince George!

A woman can be a queen in many ways. Naturally, the current incumbent at the Palace, Queen Elizabeth II, continues a 60+ year reign over her willing (and unwilling) subjects. Life would be a little less interesting if we forsook the pomp and pageantry in order to swell the public purse (which politicians would only divert to their private expense accounts anyway!). Princess Diana was the people’s and paparazzi’s princess and was loved and feted all over the world in life and death. All she ever wanted was to do some good and be a queen in people’s hearts; that she achieved in her own inimitable style.

A woman who behaves with dignity and displays courage when under fire is a queen for all seasons – in good times and bad, in marriage, widowhood or divorce, in penury and affluence, in health or sickness, for better or for worse - a woman with a queenly attitude is a powerful force of nature…..don’t mess with her!

If only a man could be more like a queen, he would understand the potent value of the regal, female state.

Kings have a chequered past – they’ve beheaded their wives, drunk copious amounts of dark intoxicating liquid, gorged themselves on a host of unhealthy delicacies, got gout, flown into blind rages, defrauded and defrocked, commited perjury and injury, locked people in the tower and subjected them to torture, started wars, sown wild oats and asked the hungry to eat cake, collected unfair taxes, taken mistresses and produced a string of illegtimate children, practised hypocrisy and generally abused their privileges at every opportunity.

A King seeks dominion over his subjects and resists showing them proper care and compassion. This kind of king is living in the past and like the Emperor’s “new clothes” he’s now exposed to a new reality. A man/king’s home is no more his castle……….especially if its in need of repair and refurbishment……..and there’s not a good woman/queen around the place to help out.

A man who thinks he’s a king (and lauds it over his family) will soon find himself trudging around the supermarket in his ermine cloak with a lonely shopping basket for one. A packet of sausages and a tin of baked beans is not a meal fit for royalty!!!

A man/king with a roving eye may find both his eyes popping out when he sees the divorce lawyers fees and alimony payments. He might be sorry that he couldn’t keep his royal trousers up!! A man/king who lacks sensitivity and humility will find that his bed cold and that the chamber maid has run off with the gardener and the bed pan!

We don’t need any more kings, macho-men, egotists, narcissists and oppressors of peace and freedom.

We need kind, gentle, enlightened and inspirational male figures who may also dress up as drag queens.

Yes, we need more Conchitas who will pave the way for men to be more like women.

A woman's man

Conchita bared her soul last Saturday and revealed an awesome talent. He/She has broken down transgender barriers and helped Europe think in a new way. His/Her brand of queendom is young and fresh and has blown all those cobwebs out of the castle……long live the queen….go Conchita!

Human traffik jams

2014-04-28T06:42:00.000-07:00

The recent comment by Pope Francis denoucing human trafficking as one of the evils of humanity provides food for thought on why humans feel the urge to traffik each other.

It would appear that the intrinsic animal nature of man predisposes him to bestial acts. We don’t need to list the atrocities in order to know that this is true. Wherever humans gather….there’s usually some kind of traffik jam or car crash.

Pope Francis, being a celibate soul, will not understand that carnal desires often translate into sinister interactions between so called intelligent mammals. As long as people believe that they have power over each other and any other living organism…birds, bees and everything else in between…..man will be man! There’s very little on planet earth that man has not had his dirty mitts on.

Ever since Adam and Eve adulterated a gala apple in Eden, humanity has been grappling with its wretchedness. Part of the original sin experiment was to give man (and woman) dominion over lesser beings and boy did the big Cheese get it wrong?!!!

If man can trample across fields and flowers then he can also desecrate fragile hearts and minds…and so he does. If only the Pontiff knew that birth was a dangerous thing and though new borns of the 21^st century will not fall prey to despots like Herod, they have much to fear from mater and pater.

If parents are unloving beings then an innocent is potentially going to get stuck in a jam. Where’s there’s no sense, there’s no feelings and, in this dysfunctional atmosphere, children get by and make do, but they do not flourish or develop into balanced individuals.

A child brought up in a home where “love” amounts to having a few hot meals and fresh changes of clothes are set on a path of self-destruction. A child who receives daily criticism and few praises will blame themselves for being so unlovable or find themselves prone to anger. A child who becomes a whipping-boy for his parents’ mood swings will have his mental and emotional growth stunted.

As this child grows up in a negative environment, he/she will begin to get comfortable with being ignored and uncared for. The neglected child also neglects himself by not applying himself at school or elsewhere and has little concept of his dormant personal power. His potential may never be awakened if he becomes indifferent and apathetic. If he is fortunate, he may experience a turning point and find the strength to change his life.

Too often, it doesn’t happen since the child turned adult has now directed his energies towards wiping out his bad childhood memories by filling his veins with narcotics and alcohol. The ones who don’t, move towards the shadows and get locked into relationships with abusive partners. An abuser recognises weaker souls and takes great delight in bruising and battering minds and bodies.

Human trafficking stems from a wicked soul. It’s mankind’s insane lust that drives him to possess and demean another. The mind of the abuser is broken and distorted as is the mind of the helpless victim. Ego mania is the power play of human traffiking. When a girl of 11 is married off to a man of 57, when a child is kidnapped and later murdered for sexual gratification, when a woman is raped or when a wife/daughter cannot express herself freely…………….these are causes for grave concern and the start of a nasty business model.

Human traffiking is an offshoot of the malice that plagues human hearts. When love truly wins the day then we will clear the jams but until then the struggle between good and evil continues. The Pontiff and other government forces must join together and take action to protect the tender saplings of the next generation.

Ultimately, we want less jams and more confidence to ensure a smoother flow of healthy traffic!

Hard hearts and hard times

2014-03-31T06:50:00.001-07:00

There are parents who if their children were hungry would give them a stone to eat. There are parents who think that providing for their children means looking after them like animals eg. giving them shelter and food. Such parents see their offspring as burdens and the whole of their childrens’ lives are blighted due a distinct lack of love.

Hard hearts are aplenty in the weird (and less wonderful) world of parenting. Some people are just incapable of it and perhaps society is starting to understand as legislation in the UK is making emotional abuse a criminal act. Too little, too late is my take on the naievete of law makers who believe that emotional pain was ever absent from physical and sexual abuses to children.

The game plan for an abuser is to destroy a child’s self esteem and this is done in several ways. The most basic and cruel way is to not be tactile and affectionate. There are no hugs, kisses or kindnesses so grains of fear and mistrust are planted in an innocent heart. The child, whose emotional circuitry is set by the age of five, then sees himself as unlovable and displays these symptoms in a myriad of ways. Some become withdrawn , some become boisterous and some are at the start of their bi-polar journey from which they don’t often recover.

Emotional abuse compromises the full development of a child’s intellectual abilities. A child who receives little or no loving attention will not value themselves enough to succeed at school. They already suffer from feelings of inadequacy and despondency so what’s the point of trying to be good at anything? Prisons are full of felons with low academic ability and there’s a direct correlation between a lack of parental interest and becoming a societal cause for concern.

Parents need to take a long hard look at themselves. They need help and certainly every parent should be compelled to take a parenting courses to understand the proper care and feeding of babies, toddlers, teenagers. A parent needs to know how to feed minds and nourish hearts as this is the only way to create well rounded individuals. The body should not be cosseted at the expense of the mind.

Bringing up a child requires inspiration and dedication and to pass on such qualities, parents themselves need to know how. Leaving your child playing for hours on their play station is not the way to do it. Allowing children to spend hours holed up in their bedrooms on mobile phones/social media is not the way to do it. Trying to be your child’s friend and giving in to every childish demand is not the way to do it. Not showing your child that there are rewards/consequences for good/poor behaviour is not the way to do it. Being a weak role model is not the way to do it. Not saying “no” to your child because you fear them is not the way to do it.

Parenting takes perspiration and if you want to reduce your body odour then keep a check on your baby-making equipment. Take precautions, be selfish and leave parenting to those energetic souls who can take the heat and stay in the kitchen. Not everyone is cut out for parenting just as not everyone is cut out for space exploration!

If we don’t apply strict controls on who sign up for parenting then we are going to have to deal with the aftermath and that means an ever increasing prison population. We don’t need to build more prisons if we build better parents.

If the hand that rocks the cradle rules the world then the cradle’s contents has seen the fist and suffered the effects of bruises and black eyes. Young hearts stained with neglect and pain develop into young adulthood making poor life choices. The girl who marries to get away from her parents only to find that she’s married a man in a similar vein. The boy who gets into the grip of substance addiction or indulges in abuse himself since he doesn’t want to or can’t do any better.

Low ambition and insecurity dog the footsteps of the unloved. A law to out emotional abusers is too little and too late for those of us who now purporting to be effective role models, pillars of the community and politicians. The law must not only dole out suitable punishments to abusers but supporting the victims is even more critical.

Hard hearts can’t be changed by law but bringing them to book might make them think. Schools, doctors and the police must lead the crusade for better treatment of children by paying attention to anti-social behaviour. Many a teacher can also abuse and the government must root out those who are not fit for purpose.

Hard hearts beget hard times and that’s not good enough for any child. A child’s heart is marshmallow soft and spirit even more fragile. A child cannot make sense of the environment its born into and is prone to emotional disturbance. If a child lives without emotional protection then every fairy story is a lie because there is no triumph over evil and certainly no happy-ever-after.

An Empire State of Mind

2014-03-06T07:29:00.003-08:00

Having recently returned from my first ever transatlantic crossing to the Big Apple I can now evaluate the experience.

The sights are as spectacular as its written about in all the best guide books but here’s my take:

Grand Central station – exquisite architecture for a railway station

New York Public architecture – grandiose and magnificent spectacle on 5^th Avenue

9//11 Memorial – water fountains now mark the spot surrounded by plaques where the names of those who perished are inscribed. A poignant reminder of the dark side of human nature.

Battery Park – covered in snow

Skyscrapers – lots of them so don’t break your neck looking at them

Empire State – the view from the 86^th floor is not be missed

Times Square – aaah the bright lights and David Beckham running around advertising his undies!

Statue of Liberty – the lady with the torch and the book. Apparently, Mr Eiffel (of Eiffel Tower fame) had to be draughted in to build the structure. It was a clear day with so the lady looked great framed in blue.

Shops: 5^th Avenue & Macy’s will delight those bargain hunters and if you’re from across the pond….they’re irresistible! Love the 50% & 75 % off everything sales.

Eateries: plentiful and cheap. Some exotic finds were giant pretzels and Kronuts

New York, New York – so good they named it twice! Hmmm…..to my Asian-European eyes, my particular area of interest is the immigrant experience. After all, surely America grew up to be the super power it is based on that hardworking bunch……so….. they may have a thing or two to teach other nations.

Surely they do but not all of it good. Those poor souls who arrived on Ellis Island were the ne-er do wells and lesser fortunate emigres looking for opportunity and adventure. Perhaps the combined vision of so many peoples, cultures and languages was a little skewed and so the establishment of a new order brought more controversy than harmony.

New York is not so much as melting pot but more of a giant frittata – it’s a bit of this and a bit of that. This amalgamation of cultures has created a diversified dilemma: how do you preserve unique cultures and human rights whilst building a country? You don’t…….America’s success is based upon a survival…the survival of the fittest…..and the fight to be top dog.

Irish, Italian, Jewish, African, Chinese, Russian –New York is all of this and more. In this helter-skelter new world, the gun was mightier than the pen and it was every man for himself. America may be wealthy but its heart has been ripped out. America suffers from a cultural inferirority complex due to its dubious roots. Slavery and its legacy is the permanent blot on the landscape and third generation African-Americans wear a haunted look.

New Yorkers, as I observed during my brief soujourn, appear to have frozen facial muscles. If you’re expecting a warm welcome, beware……smiles are not forthcoming and politeness may be going out of fashion……except on Fifth Avenue. “Please” and “Thank you” are mostly heard only when spending copious amounts of dollars and I don’t recall too many people saying: “Have a nice day!”.

America is a conundrum that the British relinquished after much bloodshed. It was a beast that couldn’t be tamed and wanted its freedom and independence. Once freedom from the rulers was obtained they appeared to be reluctant to abolish slavery until Mr Lincoln declared all out war on this tyranny.

America did put the first man on the moon and that was an awesome feat along with its other technological developments but it must help improve and care for Mother Earth. Reducing pollution and recycling its garbage would be a great initiative and I didn’t notice a lot of that.

Big countries have big problems and, with Obama, at the helm there will be progress but the one who follows him will have a tough act to follow.

Every American is not born equal since not everyone’s driving a Cadillac! But every American is born into a gun culture and with no free medical care if you happen to get in the way of stray bullets. Human dignity is a concept that requires interpretation for our bretheren across the pond: the right to be human and be valued and accepted in spite of our human frailties. It’s a global work-in-progress and every country has “could do better” on its report card.

A truly empire state of mind remembers and cares for the impoverished and downtrodden. I was surprised to see TV ads asking for funds for ex-military personnel who have been maimed in global conflict. Every tax paying US citizen must carry the burden of military action or America needs to re-think its foreign policy...and stay out!

You may throw money at the problem but it’s not a long term solution. America (and the rest of the world) needs to refresh its thinking and strive to make hearts and minds as rich as their tax havens……and that’s a state I can relate to.

The Skin We Live In

2014-02-12T07:17:00.002-08:00

I’m one in a many of the hued people of that walk this earth. If I’d had to choose a colour to wear, this would have been my colour of choice. I don’t have to chase after the sun but my skin needs nutrients. Genetically my blood hungers for the vitamin warmth that my ancestors enjoyed.

My skin has travelled far from its land of heritage and become more comfortable out of it’s natural comfort zone. My skin has been stretched and even slightly abused over the years. From the supple and fresh yards it used to be it is now a little worn at the edges and in need of elastic in places to hold it up!

Skin is a living organism and its subtle changes over the years have not been lost on me. Had I been a more skilled potter I would have moulded the languid yards into a sun kissed beach body. I’m tactile so my skin loves a good rub down, to be pummelled and pressed by firm hands.

My skin’s been in a few tight spots in its time – crowded trains, lifts, miniscule airplane seats. It has struggled to find breathing space and mountain fresh air in this polluted world I dwell in. My skin has been city-proofed as it’s not long out of the toxic fumes.

Skin works with gravity and any largesse will travel south so my couture has had to expand to accommodate it. I’ve exercised, watered and fed my skin but sugar coated cravings have prevented it looking its best at all times. My weak will has interfered with my skin’s condition and for that there’s no excuse.

Youth rarely appreciates the mass that houses bones, vital organs and soul. It’s a grand design by a magnificent creator or naturally selected according to evolution. But I haven’t always valued the gift. In the past, I’ve wanted it to be a different colour, less lumpy, more silky and as fresh as a peach.

My skin loves sleep, relaxation, water and air but my lifestyle has not catered for it. Marriage, motherhood and earning a living to have a life has worn it out. I’ve suffered from insomnia and the skin around my eyes knows it! When I’ve not kept my skin in good company, it’s taken a toll on my heart and soul. When my skin’s not hydrated, my nerves feel shot through!

Lotions and potions loaded with chemicals are not healthy for skin and don’t stem the ageing process. When skin absorbs toxins, it disrupts the intricate workings (and playing!) of its internal organs. Contaminated skin cannot make sweet music and dulcet tones are vital for the skin to have its sensations.

However, skin can be enhanced and there’s no shortage of cosmetic manufacturers scrabbling to persuade us to daub ourselves with eyeshadow, mascara, lipstick, blusher, liner, foundation and conealer – whew! It’s a pore clogging recipe that we’re sold on and feel better with the war paint on…than off!

Our skins are masques that we wear in the costume ball that is our life. The skin we appear in is known affectionately as our “birthday suits” and, over the years, acquires a good few creases that aren’t easily ironed out.

Adventurous and sporty skins find that their precious layers are susceptible to abrasions and gashes. The more sedentary find that their skins need a good workout for the red stuff in their veins to release adrenaline.

Placing your skin into a potentially hazardous situation is not advisable but it’s unavoidable. When skin gets bruised, burnt or even smashed it can be the one time you know what it means to be alive. Being alive and feeling pain is a constant of the human experience.

Skin to skin sensations are necessary for maintaning a healthy equilibrium but some skins have been under psychological attack. It’s not the skin you live in you have to fear but the skin you live with. All skins are not inhabited by kindly souls!

When two skins live in harmony then optimum health is achieved – good mental health is a valuable asset and it’s needed for the proper care and feeding of your epidermis. If you want your skin to thrive then educate yourself.

So what happens when you choose the wrong skin to live with? Dysfunctions ensue and your skin suffers.

Skin is me and me is skin. It’s the upholstery of my soul and it’s seamless so I’ve got to protect and love it.

I’m now in the fortunate position of appreciating the skin I’m in but age and adversity have left their mark . I’m now looking after number 1 - my epidermis is epic- and that’s more than skin deep!

Half Lived Life

2014-01-23T06:42:00.001-08:00

Half Lived Life…….or reasons to be cheerful – PART 1

As I enter my half century there’s a lot to reflect on.

What has got me through the last 50?
An indomitable spirit no less!

So here’s a potted history of the story of my life:

Years 0-5

I’m born…..8 weeks after a catastrophic event that rocked the world……the assassination of JFK….if I had any notions of the world being a safe place it was knocked out of me then! Adjusting and adapting to a rollercoaster lifestyle which I’m completely obilivous of. In this stage of my life, I exchange a tropical landscape (akin to paradise) for the colder shores of the Northern Hemisphere so snow is a new experience! I sample the delights of my first school and realise that I love learning!

Years 5-10

Reality bites……and I’m learning things that life is not a bowl of cherries! Parental conflict inhibits their childrens’ growth but this appears to be the destiny prescribed; so layers of fear and sadness build up in young hearts. At this stage, I try out my second and third schools as we return to a political battlefield (aka “Paradise”) and brother no. 3 arrives. Paradise is not so pretty so we return to freezing temperatures and hearts to match!

Years 10-15

I discover a flair for writing and while away the hours (that are not filled up with responsibility and chores) by writing poetry and bits of fiction. Learning is still a great adventure but adventure has its fraught moments! Teenage angst and depression kicks in and so it’s the start of the worst wonder years and I wonder if I’ll ever grow …into a graceful swan!! Books become my refuge and spending time at the library is a highlight!

Years 15-20

The swan makes an appearance but low self esteem prevents me from truly appreciating my worth. I lose myself in my insecurities and familial dysfunction but keep a smile pasted on my face….so I fool everyone but myself. People-pleasing is my default setting so I become mediocre by burying my light under a bushel. Whilst I believe myself to be too weak and inadequate to chase after my dreams, I bump into a pipe dream that is merely an illusion and on the way to becoming a full blown nightmare!

Years 20-25

The world is certainly not my oyster. No oyster could thrive in the murky depths of my mind…. and my soul is crushed under the weight of the world on my shoulders. Just as well, since I choose vegetarianism as a healthy option. I get hitched and have Baby no. 1 who is adorable and as perfect as he needs to be. Motherhood is life-changing and I take to it like a duck to water (responsible people do!) and there’s plenty to smile about!

Years 25-30

Into each life some rain has to fall but this is torrential! I’m starting to see the wood from the trees and it’s not picturesque. Imperfectly perfect is all I can say about this period. I learn things I’d rather forget but this is the character building stage when I have to take the “slings and arrows” of what fate’s dished out (or so I think!).

Years 30-35

Wow – two more babies in this era and they’re both all I could imagine and want. I’m a blissful mother as I have managed to produce a mini-me (daughter) too and that’s a good feeling. But the clouds are never far away and I start growing some courage….deep within tiny shoots develop….and I water and feed them day by day. I also feed my mind good books and endeavour to keep myself in good company but that’s not proving to be easy!

Years 40-45

A period of confident growth. I’ve analysed my life choices and found that they were based on fear and sadness so what good can come of that? Now I come into my own, I grab at opportunities and take “the road less travelled”. I’m relieved to find that it’s not as arduous as I first thought. My body may be tired but my soul’s rested and I experience freedom and (god forbid!) fun! Challenges are the making (not the breaking) of me and my unbound spirit soars.

Years 45-50

I love life – what a revelation! I can (almost) do as I please and not please anyone. My inner resources are strong as I become solution-orientated. Problems come and….go……and I try to see the lesson before I jump into depressive mode. My heart’s light (body needs work) but hey I’m thriving and surviving. I’m ending this half century (and starting a new one) strong.

At this stage of my life:

I’m grateful (for everything I’ve learnt the hard way)

I’m free to be myself (except when I choose not to be)

I’m solvent (most of the time)

I’m in good shape (when I don’t over-indulge)

I even believe in miracles (in fact, I am a miracle!)

Life has taught me that it’s short and I need to pay attention to the details – like me, myself and I - and “attention must be paid”……to my mind and my soul…..purity matters.

So here’s to the next 50 years of a glass half full……may my cup runneth over!

Little Big Me

2014-01-16T07:06:00.000-08:00

In the world of ego, we all walk a little taller, speak and even shout, assert and possibly respect ourselves too. In the real world, we have to mind ourselves and the “rules” that we deign to live by. Inside our cerebral worlds, we cope, manage, and even carve out a little time for day dreaming. That’s when our thoughts go wandering; sauntering along the byways and highways of our mental asphalt and bitumen.

We all travel mentally in unique ways. Some take the scenic route and some while away the hours in memory lane or in a fantasy land far from life’s dramas. Some insist on taking a long stop gap indulging themselves in looking backwards (rose spectacled fashion). Some take the low road to depression and despair so great that they have to remain on the hard shoulder and cry on it. Some of us selflessly look out for our fellow travellers and gently nudge them if they’re going the wrong way. Some travellers are just plain old mean bandits and feel the need to deprive you of your life and liberty.

The id, ego and super ego has been well documented by eminent psychologists and certainly Freud is its greatest exponent. I don’t wish to dwell on Mr Freud’s illustrious findings but my own as I have encountered them in my struggle to become a bigger and better version of myself.

A sensitive ego is easily crushed and rarely flourishes in a difficult, emotional environment but it doesn’t get to choose the where, when or how of its origins. This ego flounders through the inability to attract a higher love so it is not often nurtured and becomes hyper sensitive to life. The sensitive ego responds in two ways to early neglect – it curls up and dies (maturing into a watered down version of self) or it goes on a rampage. This is when it goes on a tour of destruction and leaves its victims in the ditches and way-bys. It learns to inflict pain and revel in the pleasure of torture.

This ego is damaged and any hope of salvaging is remote…..not impossible…..but surely a super-human (and noble) undertaking. This ego has negative mind speak rattling around in its head and the low self esteem it acquires makes it want to entrap another weaker ego. Green eyed jealousy That greed-eyed monster, jealousy, develops in an egoist’s lair and his empty mind can be happy when he sees another’s pain.

This darkness of mind is attracted to the bright and cheerful spirit; those who lighten another burden and cast their light upon an ignorant path. Sometimes a dark ego can lighten up once it finds its missing jigsaw piece but, inevitably, it can also feel naked and ugly in the light.

An exposed ego is trouble. It can be a false friend and a malevolent force. When this ego gets into a relationship that’s when it’s wrath is unleashed. It’s fury and rancour on legs so batten down the hatches if you see it coming. Trying to negotiate with this level of dysfunction, even by plainly ignoring it will not do any good. Make no mistake, your life is in danger so get the hell out!

Marianne Williamson said: “It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you.”

To paraphrase I would suggest that when the light of optimism and naievete is shone into a dark heart, a car crash ensues. It’s true that “shrinking” your own ego to accommodate an oversized one is not a healthy option but how do you deal with the force and brutality?

Winding up dead or in hospital is a logical conclusion. Is it worthwhile to pursue redemption for the unholy? Might the loss of your life or maimed body serve as a learning experience for others?

I fear that the answer is probably affirmative. Good and bad things happen to any ego but the weakest ones will believe that one nasty turn deserves another.

We all want to grow and follow the right paths but the ego cannot distinguish. The ego is selfish and judgmental; it wants what it wants and believes whatever it wants to. Perhaps one a solution for a smooth ride is to find an ego to rival yours. If yours is big, contain it and if yours is small, keep it that way.

I was a flower.....before your ego trampled on me!

I want to be big in my own eyes – in my own way and style- and let others egos see it as they please!

I’m comfortable being myself - little, old me for now – and I’m expecting the best of myself for what is to be.

Revolutions and resolutions

2014-01-07T02:41:00.001-08:00

Each New Year we make resolutions. Resolutions are something that we make a decision about – we eat so we diet…..we smoke so we quit…..we walk so we run…..we collect so we de-clutter…..we spend so we save.

Resolutions are simple but our mental and emotional systems are complex. We can’t shift our mental gears quick enough to move our butts. Our emotions are so unhealthy that we can’t avoid the tempting Danish, cheesecake or barbecued spare ribs. Artificial stimulants are appealing as they seem to give us confidence and make us “one of the crowd”. Shopping is the biggest crowd puller and it’s easy to get hooked into the “I love a bargain” brigade. Who can’t love pretty useless things that deplete our savings?!

Resolutions are for the weak-willed as they can be broken and re-made. Flawed as humans are, we love to break our resolves and turn off the self-discipline. Discipline is hard work so why do it? We want to but we just can’t stick to the game plan. There’s a myriad of distractions – a busy social life, clamouring spouses and children, online activities, work that can fill up any available time slot and even plain, old depression……we’re depressed about feeling so overloaded!

What’s required is not a quiet resolve but a loud, all singing and dancing revolution! A revolution can really clear away the cobwebs and radical measures applied to self are far more effective. A revolution is just an idea that’s come of age. It’s like a simmering pot of stew that either burns dry or boils over.

Within us all, is a mini volcano waiting to erupt. Our brains might be programmed for routine but our spirits revel in rebellion. Doesn’t it feel wonderful when you throw a sickie and do something delicious like taking a few good books to bed? Isn’t it uplifting to think that the world won’t come to an end just because we’ve forgotten to do the laundry and make sandwiches? Procrastination is a form of revolution; we are reactionaries against the very systems that provide structure and support. Yes we need some of the same old, same old but a lot of it needs refreshing (and not everyone’s thoughts are fresh!).

Divorce is major rebellion and an “enough is enough” antidote to lame self-esteem. When you’ve lived in quiet desperation, hoping and praying that things will get better….and they don’t….then you know it’s time to revolt. What’s really revolting is putting up with abuse and to keep on making excuses for it!

Revolutions are messy and that’s why most people shy away. The emotional cost of protest and establishment of a new order takes determination, persistence and courage. Revolutions are not for the budget-conscious; the financial costs can break the bank so the financially astute among us will choose a resolution over a revolution any day!

Revolution, when it doesn’t involve hundreds and thousands of devotees, is about a change of environment – be it spiritual or physical. Our physical location can be a hindrance or a help to achieve our goals. A cramped room in an attic can provide the stimulus for the production of great novels (Charles Dickens had great success in his!).

There’s not too many famous writers, inventors, sculptors who’ve lived in opulence and travelled in style. However, following a revolution of spirit - where they dared, cared, shared or even became plain scared – (artists known as the movers and shakers of their time) changed the world.

Revolutions are necessary to make us sit up and think. It puts “change” at the top of the agenda and a change is surely what we all need. Resolution is the strait-laced cousin of revolution and can be a way of seeing things more clearly. Whether it’s resolve or full blown revolution, a new year is a time to take stab at being or doing something new…….so just do it!