Wednesday, June 28, 2006

"And build a Hell in Heaven's despite."

So, mission accomplished.
Or so I should feel.
But as I originally thought, there are no winners in this, only losers.
The victorious side full of guilt that the other side must now be suffering.
And I feel like a worm, though I know the way I went was right and true and the only way I could have gone.
And tomorrow now comes into view, impossible scenario, with no answer and no solution.
Different modes have played out in my head, if I say, if I do, if I suggest...
But finally control is not mine and I have no answer, nothing to say or do, no suggestions that will undo an horrific past and a nightmare present.
I can try and offer a little balm, but on the open sore that is her soul, what good will it do?

Love was misused
And no pill, no potion, no magic words or therapy, no CBT, no analysis can give sufficient love to ever overcome that memory of the misuse.

The CLOD & the PEBBLE
William Blake

Love seeketh not Itself to please,

Nor for itself hath any care;
But for another gives its ease,
And builds a Heaven in Hells despair.

So sang a little Clod of Clay,

Trodden with the cattles feet:
But a Pebble of the brook,
Warbled out these metres meet.

Love seeketh only Self to please,

To bind another to Its delight:
Joys in anothers loss of ease,
And builds a Hell in Heavens despite.

Monday, June 26, 2006

Try to stay calm and controlled, now...

I'm doing my best.
When sometimes something happens that appears to be unjust, but you only have the one side, it is easy to go like a bull at a gate and charge and end up not helping.
So I am trying to stay calm and in control, gritting my teeth when I see the triggers and not respond.
I've done the right thing up to now and will wait a couple of days to see if anything happens, letting it all flow gently over me.
The heck I am!!
The flow is surging over me like a storm crashing on the rocks, alternating anger and fury with moments of waiting, which makes being calm and collected all the more difficult.
And I can see why this is a hard decision to take from one sense, but my instinct, which I trust, tells me something is not right and I will not rest until I can at least get others to see that.
But whatever happens, someone will get hurt, of that there is no doubt...
:-(

And it focuses me onto other issues that I too need to address, that run too deep to think of now, too close to the bone to open and explore.
Calm and collected, one thing at a time.
Do not risk losing more, too much has been lost already.

So, as I muse on life I think I need to muse on something that is food for my spirit.

To muse that love is enough, despite all that goes on around, to overcome the crashing of the waves on the rocks, the uncertainty of what is right or wrong, the waiting and the tension.
My hand will not tremble, nor my feet falter from this path...


Love is enough

by William Morris


Love is enough: though the World be a-waning,
And the woods have no voice but the voice of complaining,
Though the sky be too dark for dim eyes to discover
The gold-cups and daisies fair blooming thereunder,
Though the hills be held shadows, and the sea a dark wonder,
And this day draw a veil over all deeds pass'd over,
Yet their hands shall not tremble, their feet shall not falter;
The void shall not weary, the fear shall not alter
These lips and these eyes of the loved and the lover.


Tuesday, June 20, 2006

Love's the sweetest thing...

Two contrasting women
Both bearing the same name
Sitting, talking, crying, thinking
Of things past and present, of loves and losts
Of aches in the heart and in the mind

I sit and absorb and reflect and wish the majic was majic indeed
To spread and make light the burden
Not within my power
Nor in my basket of potions and pills
No heartease, no memory spell
To remove the dark side of life and replace it with the light

All I can do is all that I do
Listen, reflect, ease where we can
Hold when needed, push when stuck
Absorb the rage, the hate, the anger
With a wry smile and a shared tear
With hope that riding the waves with them will work
And that none of us will fall
before the end is reached

And that the hatred shown past
will be wiped out
by the love shown now
and that finally
all may be well
and all may be well,
and all manner of things may be well.

Sleep sweetly my friends....

Saturday, June 17, 2006

Post from Nov last year elsewhere:
Things I need to do...
Awake all night in pain
I must go to the doctors next week!
My friends have all confidently and independently decided it's a gastric
ulcer and it's certainly not all in the mind, so I better go and get it sorted.
I can't cope with the lack of sleep any longer!
Also in one of those awful hanging on by a thread state of minds.
Trying to stay well away from topics that may just tip me over, because
I've been at the end of my tether before but never discovered what happens when
the tether runs out..
Do you plunge screaming into the abyss?
Because that's what I forsee and I don't want that at all
Hence the need to avoid certain discourses
But too much is going on in my head (lack of sleep is not good) and the
thread is getting thinner and thinner
And perhaps confronting the problems might put them to bed forever, instead
of snapping the thread
Perhaps
Help...


But the thread snapped...
And today I so wish that I had gone away and stayed away.
Because this abyss is not where I ever wanted to be
But now I'm here, I'm trying to make the most of it.
The sheer walls either side make it somewhat hard to climb out, but I can see a way forward and I can see a chink of light.
And I have kept walking towards it and the light is getting stronger.
I can't verbalise it all very well, but I think I can live it.
Well, some of it...
Kindness, compassion, empathy and care seem to be the motto
They can defeat much, not all.
Cannot defeat the worst that humankind can do to each other, but they can gently brush the edges of the horror and make things a little more bearable.
Perhaps bearable enough not to give up the fight.
My hope...

Friday, June 09, 2006

New York seems a distant dream...

Matt is lying on my bed listening to the Waterboys as we chat.
NYC seems a distant dream and we both wish we were back there, probably for different reasons!
"So peaceful!" says Matt- I know he is thinking of lying in Central Park under the trees in the shade with a gentle breeze cooling us off as he reads his books and birds scatter around us...
Me, I want to see all those things I couldn't with him- the museums, the art.
Stand in front of a beautiful Madonna and child, that still hold me, still move me, despite what I now believe.
Gaze in awe at the love of mother for child frozen through time on a canvas and wonder why this child has won so many hearts, so many lives over the years.
And think of the words that child was reported to have said, his acts that spoke louder than words.
When he bent to the ground, the crowd standing round expecting condemnation, a good stoning, he wrote instead in the sand.
What did he write?
Perhaps the name of each, and their hidden sins, crimes of the heart known only to each one.
Sins laid bare, for all to see, in the light.
And she who was stood there, exposed, scarlet letter on her chest, she was spared and forgiven.
Go and sin no more...
But forget not your sin, for it is part of who you were
And being forgiven, forgive much and understand much, so that others might too begin to see...

The message still resonates within...

Saturday, June 03, 2006

Friendship


BEING YOUR FRIEND
Being your friend, I do not care, not I,
How gods or men may wrong me, beat me down;
Your word's sufficient star to travel by,
I count your quiet praise sufficient crown.

Being your friend, I do not covet gold,
Save for a royal gift to give you pleasure;
To sit with you, and have your hand to hold,
Is wealth, I think, surpassing minted treasure.

Being your friend, I only covet art,
A white pure flame to search me as I trace
In crooked letters from a throbbing heart
The hymn to beauty written on your face.
— John Masefield (slightly
adapted into the second person)


I found that at jfk in a book of poetry that I bought
Beautiful and expresses how I feel about the many friends I am so fortunate to have, in both virtual and real life world. The beauty and love of my friends is something that powers me on when days become difficult and burdensome: the encouragement of my mad but loving co-workers, the shared joy found in small miracles with T with my Lourdes friends, the empathy and laughter of friends from the net and so many others, some old and longstanding, some new but deep in my heart already.
In friends I am rich indeed!
Thank you all of you from the bottom of my heart...