Its been a long time hasnt it...

How long is too long?

A year, two? three?

Maybe being away can be a good thing. Distance can provide, even the worst of situations the clarity it truly needs.

Well where I am now? In a different place? A better place? A new place?...I will tell you...


Two years ago I was little. Little with experience and little with confidence. Today I speak from a new mountain that I have chosen to sculpt, build and create.

Distance has given me the time to build myself anew.

I am who I am, who I always was, but I know now my path and the path I tread is mine alone to take.

Building your own confidence takes time and doesn't come without a price. Its the price of opening up and realising things that are not right and making a resolve to change things, not because you need to, but because you have to.

I was in pain for so long, and not knowing the reasons why. I didn't know what to do for the best. i was trapped in the coconut and frightened of life. Frightened of so much. Frightened of who I was, and who I was to be.

Since the days I have returned from my travels, I have retrained my thinking. I placed myself in the familiar of my old flat and my old career. I did this to start from a positive place in order to move on. it helped, but did not fix everything at once.

Coming back from travelling was hard. I did not know who I was. I did not know who I was supposed to be.

Sometimes you think that love will be enough.but I found that this attitude was wrong - it wasnt enough. I needed to be me. To be true to yourself is a hard lesson to learn...but I learned it the very hard hard way. In a way that nearly becomes a self destructive way. But I survived...I survived...

So where am I know? I am who I am. I do what I wish and I take chances. I take the opportunities that come my way, even though they scare me, in the hope that i will build my character and open more doors...

2013 is a long way off 2010...and I am a long way off the person I was...

...here is to this year...and the opportunities that come :)

Change of site address

Hi
I am changing this site address, so if you want to carry on following it, email me at coconutbutterfly@gmail.com
and I will send you a linky
xxx

she's just a grain of sand

She is a pyramid
But with him she's just a grain of sand
This loves too strong like mice and men
Squeezing out the life that should be let in

She was a hurricane
But now she's just a gust of wind
She used to set the sails of a thousand ships
Was a force to be reckoned with

She could be a statue of liberty
She could be Joan of Arc
But he’s scared of the light that’s inside of her
So he keeps her in the dark

Oh she used to be a pearl
Ohh yeah she used to rule the world
Ohhhh cant believe she’s become a shell of herself
Cause she used to be a pearl

She was unstoppable
Moved fast as like an avalanche
But now she’s stuck deep in some man
Wishing that they never ever met
She could be a statue of liberty
She could be a Joan of Arc
But he’s scared of the light that’s inside of her
So he keeps her in the dark

Oh She used to be a pearl
Ohh yeah she used to rule the world
Ohhhh can’t believe she’s become a shell of herself
Cause she used to be a

Do you know that there’s a way out
There’s a way out
There’s a way out
There’s a way out
You don’t have to be held down
Be held down
Be held down
Be held down

Cause I used to be a shell...
Yeah I let him rule my world
My world Ohhh yeah

But I woke up and grew strong and I can still go on
And No one can take my pearl
You don’t have to be a shell No
You’re the one that rules your world Ohh
You are strong and you’ll learn
That you can still go on
And you’ll always be a pearl
She is unstoppable

Lyrics - Katy Perry

What I would like to say, but the words are stuck

You won't admit you love me
And so how am I ever to know?
You always tell me
Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps

A million times I've asked you,
And then I ask you over again
You only answer
Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps

If you can't make your mind up
We'll never get started
And I don't wanna wind up
Being parted, broken-hearted

So if you really love me
Say yes, but if you don't dear, confess
And please don't tell me
Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps

Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps

If you can't make your mind up
We'll never get started
And I don't wanna wind up
Being parted, broken-hearted

So if you really love me
Say yes, but if you don't dear, confess
And please don't tell me
Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps
Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps
Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps

Songwriters: Davis, Joe;Farres, Osvaldo

Breathe me

Help, I have done it again
I have been here many times before
Hurt myself again today
And, the worst part is there's no-one else to blame

Be my friend
Hold me, wrap me up
Unfold me
I am small
I'm needy
Warm me up
And breathe me

Ouch I have lost myself again
Lost myself and I am nowhere to be found,
Yeah I think that I might break
I've lost myself again and I feel unsafe

Be my friend
Hold me, wrap me up
Unfold me
I am small
I'm needy
Warm me up
And breathe me

Be my friend
Hold me, wrap me up
Unfold me
I am small
I'm needy
Warm me up
And breathe me

By Sia

Christopher Fry  the playwright wrote, 

The inescapable dramatic situation for us all is that we have no idea what our situation is. We may be mortal. What then? We may be immortal. What then? We are plunged into an existence fantastic to the point of nightmare, and however hard we rationalize, or however firm our religious faith, however closely we dog the heels of science or wheel among the starts of mysticism, we cannot really make head or tail of it. 

Captivating

Written by  Stasi Eldredge from the book 'Captivating'

I will find you.
No matter how long it takes, no matter how far - I will find you.
Nathaniel to Cora in The Last of the Mohicans

One of my favorite games growing up was "kidnapped and rescued." I know many little girls who played this - or wished they had. To be the beauty, abducted by the bad guys, fought for and rescued by a hero - some version of this had a place in all our dreams. Like Sleeping Beauty, like Cinderella, like Maid Marian or like Cora in The Last of the Mohicans, I wanted to be the heroine, and have my hero come for me. Why am I embarrassed to tell you this? I simply loved feeling wanted and fought for. This desire is set deep in the heart of every little girl - and every woman. Yet most of us are ashamed of it. We downplay it. We pretend that it is less than it is.

Think about the movies you once loved, and the movies you love now. Is there a movie for little girls that doesn't have a handsome prince coming to rescue his beloved?Sleeping Beauty, Snow White, The Little Mermaid. A little girl longs for romance, to be seen and desired, to be sought after and fought for. So the Beast must win Beauty's heart in Beauty and the Beast. So in the gazebo scene in The Sound of Music, the Captain finally declares his love to Maria by moonlight and song and then, a kiss. And we sigh.

When we are young, we want to be precious to someone - especially daddy. As we grow older, the longing matures into a longing to be pursued, desired, wanted as a woman. "Why am I so embarrassed by the depth of my desire for this?" asked a young friend just the other day. We were talking about her life as a single woman, and how she loves her work but would much rather be married. "I don't want to hang my life on it - but still, I yearn." Of course. You're a woman.

Now, being romanced isn't all that a woman wants and we are certainly not saying that a woman ought to derive the meaning of her existence on whether she is being or has been romanced by a man or not?but don't you see that you want this? To be desired, to be pursued by one who loves you, to be someone's priority? Most of our addictions as women flare up when we feel that we are not loved or sought after. At some core place, maybe deep within, perhaps hidden or buried in her heart, every woman wants to be seen, wanted, and pursued. We want to be romanced.

(Captivating, 8-10)

"Said It All"

Never has a song been so relevant.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rLyVJ2meQuA

When the tears fall away
And there's no conversation
There's nothing left to break
That's not already broken
You're staring into space
And every inch of silence
Been standing here for days, and days

Said it all
Nothing to say at all
Nothing to say that matters
Haven't we heard enough?

Said it all
Nothing to say at all
Nothing to say that matters
Doesn't matter any more

In the sudden light of day
The weight of expectation
Hurt begins to fade
As you find a new direction
Been talking here for days and days and days

Said it all
Nothing to say at all
Nothing to say that matters
Haven't we heard enough?

Said it all
Nothing to say at all
Nothing to say that matters
Doesn't matter any more

All of the miles of words we've spoken
All of the lines that got away
Didn't we take the time to say them all?

All of the miles of words we've spoken
All of the lines that got away
Didn't we take the time to say them all?

Said it all
Nothing to say at all
Nothing to say that matters
Haven't we heard enough?

Said it all
Nothing to say at all
Nothing to say that matters
Haven't we said it all?

"Unwritten"

I am unwritten, can't read my mind, I'm undefined
I'm just beginning, the pen's in my hand, ending unplanned

Staring at the blank page before you
Open up the dirty window
Let the sun illuminate the words that you could not find

Reaching for something in the distance
So close you can almost taste it
Release your inhibitions
Feel the rain on your skin
No one else can feel it for you
Only you can let it in
No one else, no one else
Can speak the words on your lips
Drench yourself in words unspoken
Live your life with arms wide open
Today is where your book begins
The rest is still unwritten

Oh, oh, oh

I break tradition, sometimes my tries, are outside the lines
We've been conditioned to not make mistakes, but I can't live that way

Staring at the blank page before you
Open up the dirty window
Let the sun illuminate the words that you could not find

Reaching for something in the distance
So close you can almost taste it
Release your inhibitions
Feel the rain on your skin
No one else can feel it for you
Only you can let it in
No one else, no one else
Can speak the words on your lips
Drench yourself in words unspoken
Live your life with arms wide open
Today is where your book begins

Feel the rain on your skin
No one else can feel it for you
Only you can let it in
No one else, no one else
Can speak the words on your lips
Drench yourself in words unspoken
Live your life with arms wide open
Today is where your book begins
The rest is still unwritten

Staring at the blank page before you
Open up the dirty window
Let the sun illuminate the words that you could not find

Reaching for something in the distance
So close you can almost taste it
Release your inhibitions
Feel the rain on your skin
No one else can feel it for you
Only you can let it in
No one else, no one else
Can speak the words on your lips
Drench yourself in words unspoken
Live your life with arms wide open
Today is where your book begins

Feel the rain on your skin
No one else can feel it for you
Only you can let it in
No one else, no one else
Can speak the words on your lips
Drench yourself in words unspoken
Live your life with arms wide open
Today is where your book begins
The rest is still unwritten
The rest is still unwritten
The rest is still unwritten


Lyrics by Natasha Beddingfield

Finding things very hard today.
No where to run to, no one to talk to.

Thoughts that are nowhere and everywhere.

Thoughts float like white clouds up in the deep blue sky.
They hang.
They do not disperse.
They plume outwards and inwards.

The wind does not comfort.
It just provides more air for the clouds to consume.
Eating away the blue.
Eating away the sun.
Thoughts float like white clouds in the deep blue sky.

As we have already begun the adventure, I have a new blog...
http://thesnailadventures.blogspot.com/

Adventure Day #1

August 1st is adventure day number one. We have packed the Snail and have put everything in the loft. Choosing which bikes to take and then we're off to Dover...
Here we go!!

How do you stop from paniking?

Ok, I have to stay focused...getting cross or upset doesn't help.

There are just so much to do before we leave that I dont know how everything is going to get done!
I know it will...it will just have to.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not sitting here procrastinating. I packing every flipping night!!
Packing this and that here.
Packing everything at work.
Thinking about where to store my work stuff.
Thinking where to store my flat stuff.
All that, as well as thinking what to take for the adventure, making sure I get a leg wax and go to a wedding all before August 2nd!!!

I shake my head at all the craziness of it all, in the knowledge that all will be well.
Thanks Julian of Norwich! 'All will be well, and all will be well and all manner of things will be well'.
I don't think she was packing when she said those immortal lines!

The Shack

Oh my goodness...pure raw emotion....

I don't think I have ever burst into tears mid way reading a book...but I have now.

I started reading a book I didn't really want to read. I have been avoiding it for a while now. As much as I know things happen in this world, there are some things I don't really want to read about. Murder is one of them.

This book has been following me around now for quite a while. I would actually see it everywhere I went. In bookshops, in non bookshops. It was almost stalking me.

And so, I gave in, sort of.
I decided I would buy this book for a friend of mine. A sort of leaving present as I am leaving my job after 7 years. A good present I thought.

I snuck a peak inside it on Sunday. I thought, seriously, how scary could this book be? A book about a man whose daughter gets brutally murdered in a shack and then 3 years later gets a note inviting him back there....well, for those who know me, those stories kinda frighted me. If its not about fairies and bubbles, I don't want to know. Its hard, especially as Mr Pilot loves all things horror-esque. (Sorry honey, wont be writing any of those stories on our travels!)

Anyway back to the book.

How is it possible that a piece of writing can wring out your emotions so much. I have always been one to slip into my imagination and watch the narrative unfurl before my eyes. Never have I started reading a tears drop from my eyes like a clock ticking. The turning point was when I was reading and a word popped into my mind. Gwiazda. Now, I'm used to words in Spanish and English popping into my mind, but never in Polish. I am obviously learning the language by osmosis.

A thought crossed my mind in a matter of seconds.
Stars.
I have always loved them.
More specifically...shooting stars.

I remember one night a few years ago, waiting and watching, looking out into the dark night convincing myself that I only had to watch and wait I would see one.
I didn't.

I always remember that night. It reminded me that when you wish for something, it may take time to happen. No, I didn't see shooting stars that night, or even the night after, but fast forward two years, and standing in the middle of the Spanish countryside with my love, I not only saw one, I saw lots!! They came, and they were shared. I felt a crescendo of emotion.

Anyway, back to the book.
After having this weird word appear in my head, I started to think about shooting stars. Within a minute I was reading about them.
My heart leapt.
Coincidence?
Maybe.
Destiny?
Who knows.

All I know is this book has stirred waters inside of me that I didn't imagine.
A book that I had been avoiding for a very long time, turned out to be something that I will treasure for a long time.

How does this resonate with my life today?
Well, I'm having serious pangs about leaving the comfort of my flat, my job, my family and friends and the life I have built for myself.
I am setting off into the unknown.
When I started reading my book yesterday I was setting into the unknown.
And at the end of that journey it made all the difference.
So I suppose, that book has been stalking me for a very good purpose. It has taught me what I need to know today.
Leap and you will be caught.
I am ready to leap...

http://theshackbook.com

Writing a journal

I have written a journal since I started university in 1995. It was mainly a small book with a collection of poems and a few of my own.

Fast forward 15 years later and I have two boxes filled with my journals. They have a variety of different things inside them. I went through phases of sticking in receipts and tickets and a variety of what-nots. Then they included photos and then they included cards. I suppose, it is a journey of my life rather than a journal. I don't write personal details in it, its not like a diary, but it certainly allows me to show my heart on a page.

Then I found out about blogging and the journalling and journeying continue.
I suppose it helps me make sense of things in the dark.

I enjoy finding people who do the same.

http://www.ourlivesourstories.com/

Being vunerable on the page

Writers expose more of themselves than any other artists. When we write about what matters to us, we unveil our deepest feelings. Sometimes even to ourselves and often when we least expect it. When we write about human frailties, we are writing about the fragile scraps of ourselves. Our words tell more than the truth about what we're writing,they also tell us the truth about us.

By Judy Reeves p107

http://www.judyreeveswriter.com/

SHOES!!!!

When you decide to rent your flat, its a very strange feeling when someone comes around whilst you're still in it to view it. I tried to pretend I wasn't here, but my mouth had other ideas!

Its not that I don't want it, I just want someone to help me pay the mortgage so I can go off and travel. Its not that I don't love it anymore, its just that I want someone to look after it. And I suppose that's my problem, I want someone to look after it.

But they stood in my flat with shoes on...I mean SHOES!!! No one walks with shoes ever in this flat, especially after I bought a cream carpet two years ago, which is still in great condition. And they walked into the bedroom! WITH SHOES!!!

I think its better if next time I go outside. The trauma of it all is just too much.

Image courtesy of www.dailyclipart.net

Note to self: You must read this

http://tinybuddha.com/blog/6-timeless-principles-to-deal-with-resistance-and-excel-in-life/?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=Feed%3A+tinybuddha+%28tinybuddha%29&utm_content=Yahoo!+Mail

Choosing to Love

Choosing love will open spaces of immense beauty and joy for you, but you will be hurt.
You already know this.

You have retreated from love countless times in your life because of it. We all have.

We have been and will be hurt by the loss of loved ones, by what they have done to us and we to them. Even in the bliss of love there is a certain exquisite pain: the pain of too much beauty, of overwhelming magnificence.

Further, no matter how perfect a love may be, it is never really satisfied . . . In both joy and pain, love is boundless.

Gerald May, The Awakened Heart