oh beautiful, amazing life. With all its twists and turns, with its surprises that are sometimes good and sometimes not too good, jolting you from one phase to the next, causing upheavals in well laid plans only to teach us that sometimes you just gotta go with the flow and to remind us that plans are living, breathing things that should have the flexibility to shift, turn, expand and contract when it needs to.
When it has been almost 3 months since you’ve written something, anything remotely creative.
When you want to put words to page (or screen, as in this case), but your mind is strangely blank but full of half baked ideas.
When you stare through the window, looking at the sky for some form of inspiration.
When for some reason you feel sleep almost dragging you with it, but you know you’ll be unable to sleep.
When you have all these plans but feel at this very moment, completely unable to form thoughts that have any direction.
When you type the letters, deleting them, re-typing them and then re-deleting them again.
In the past week, George Michael and Carrie Fisher have both departed this earthly plane. My Facebook news feed has erupted with a lot of fist shakes at 2016 for taking away not one but two entertainment icons. To many of us children of the 70’s and 80’s both these souls were a big part of our lives. In fact, poor 2016 has been getting a lot of flack for a lot of things.
Today as I type this at about 7 in the evening, I realise that I may be in deep shit. Well, in the larger scheme of life, it won’t even qualify as anything major. In fact, it’ll probably just make the tiniest tiniest little blip and then disappear. However, in my mind and the way I think, it’s one of those irritating challenges or obstacles sitting in the middle of the road…sitting like a big flabby ugly slimy icky monster, sticking it’s tongue out at me…it’s like that horrible sound when nails scratch across the chalkboard…it just makes me wanna pull at my hair and scream or run away and hide from the world hoping that it disappears…when I know that all I have to do is to close my eyes, take a deep breath, give my mind a pep talk and it will all disappear and things will be alright.
The thing is…
Brida is a book by Paulo Coelho. I bought it quite a few years ago and like most of Paulo Coelho’s books, only when the time is right do I usually reach out for his books. I still have three of his books sitting on my shelf waiting to be read. Brida was one of the “hardest” books I’ve read, because it scared me. I don’t know why, but Brida reminded me of me. And that to me, was scary. I’m glad to say though, that I did complete the book and though I have not gone back to it, it’s still one of my favourites from this author.
I don’t know about you, but for me I was thinking about this post I am about to write when I realised: why is it SO hard to get up and do something that is positive for ourselves but so easy when it’s something not as “good”. For example, why is it easier for me to get up from my chair to go make my 6th cup of coffee but much harder to do so when it is my first bottle of water. It’s like my arse has this love-hate relationship with the seat of the chair. It’s as if when it’s something “not good”, like the 6th cup of coffee, my arse and seat of chair have had an argument and arse walks off in a huff. When it’s something “good” for me, like practicing Qi Gong or getting that bottle of water..arse and seat of chair can’t get enough of each other.
I know this is an age old question and one that many of us at some point in life have asked ourselves.
This is a post about words. It’s about our perception of those words, what they mean to us, what those words trigger within us and also about the context in which those words were whispered, said, shouted or written.
About a year ago I had the opportunity to attend an introductory series of Qi Gong classes that stretched over 6 weeks. And since my brain has all but given up on producing anything remotely creative, I’m going to take the “easy” way out and use this as my Day 5 post for Nano Poblano.
I’ve known of Louise Hay for some years now but only really paid attention to her in the past few months. This in reality is pretty odd, but then again this is me…odd and weird are my friends.
I’ve been wondering about how and what to post for a couple of weeks now. I’ve been doing my notoriously favourite thing of shoving it out of my mind, on a shelf with the other things that I don’t seem to want to tackle. So now…
This idea just floated into my mind one day. You see, I spent almost 11 years working in the Malaysian Ministry of Health and the first eight years were at a district hospital. During that time I learned quite a few life lessons and for some reason I just thought it would be a good idea to do a small series of these events.
Maybe it is a way to remind myself of the lessons I learned, maybe it is also a way to share those lessons to those who read it and though these lessons are things I truly believe we ALL know whether consciously or not, I’d like to go with the flow and do it anyway.