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

My Photography

Sudden Light

I have been here before,
But when or how I cannot tell:
I know the grass beyond the door,
The sweet keen smell
The sighing sound, the lights around the shore.

You have been mine before,—
How long ago I may not know:
But just when at that swallow's soar
Your neck turned so,
Some veil did fall,—I knew it all of yore.

Has this been thus before?
And shall not thus time's eddying flight
Still with our lives our love restore
In death's despite,
And day and night yield one delight once more?

Then, now,—perchance again! . . . .
O round mine eyes your tresses shake!
Shall we not lie as we have lain
Thus for Love's sake,
And sleep, and wake, yet never break the chain?

Dante Gabriel Rossetti (1828-1882)

nie żałuję.

Że nie dałaś mi mamo zielonookich snów.
That you didn't give me, mom, greeneyed dreams.
Nie, nie żałuję.
No, I don't regret.
Że nie znałam klejnotów ni koronkowych słów.
That I didn't know jewelery or laces words.
Nie żałuję.
I don't regret.
Że nie mówiłaś mi, jak szczęście kraść spod lady,
That you didn't tell me how to still luck,
i nie uczyłaś mnie życiowej maskarady.
and you didn't teach me life's masquerade.
Pieszczoty szarej tych umęczonych dni, nie żal mi,
Cares of those grey martyred days, I don't regret,
nie żal mi.
I don't regret.

Nie, nie żałuję.
No, I don't regret.
Przeciwnie, bardzo ci dziękuję, kochana,
In opposite, thank you very much darling,
żeś mi odejść pozwoliła, po to, bym żyła tak jak żyłam.
for this that you let me go, so I could live as I lived.


Że nie dałeś mi szczęścia, pierścionka ani psa.
That you didn't give me happiness, ring or dog.
Nie żałuję.
I don't regret.
Że nie dzwonisz po nocach: kochanie, tak to ja.
That you don't call me at night: honey, it's me.
Nie żałuję.
I don't regret.
Że nie załatwisz mi posady sekretarki,
That you will not settle me in secretary job,
i że nie noszę twojej szarej marynarki.
and that I will not wear your grey jacket.
Że patrzysz na mnie jak teatralny widz,
That you look at me as theater viewer,
to nic, to nic.
it's nothing, it's nothing.
Nie, nie żałuję.
No, I don't regret.
Przeciwnie, bardzo ci dziękuję, kochanie,
In opposite, thank you very much darling,
za to, że jesteś królem karo,
you are the king of diamonts,
że jesteś zbrodnią mą i karą.
you are my crime and punishment.

Że w tym kraju przeżyłam tych parę trudnych lat.
That I spent in this country few difficult years.
Nie żałuję.
I don't regret.
Że na koniec się dowiem: ot, tak się toczy świat.
That at the end I will known: well, this is how it is.

Nie żałuję.
I don't regret.
Że nie załatwią mi urlopu od pogardy,
That I will have no holidays from contempt
i że nie zwrócą mi uśmiechu jak kokardy.
and they will not give me back my smile.



Pieszczoty szarej tych umęczonych dni, nie żal mi,
Cares of those grey martyred days, I don't regret,
nie żal mi.
I don't regret.

Nie, nie żałuję.
No, I don't regret.
Przeciwnie, bardzo ci dziękuję, mój kraju,
In opposite, thank you very much my country,
za jakiś czwartek, jakiś piątek, jakiś wtorek,
for any Thursday, Friday, any Tuesday,
i za nadziei cały worek.
and for the whole bag of hope.
Nie, nie żałuję.
No, I don't regret.
Przeciwnie, bardzo ci dziękuję,
in opposite, thank you very much,
za to, że jesteś moim krajem,
that you are my country,
że jesteś piekłem mym i rajem.
that you are my hell and heaven.
Nie żałuję.
I don't regret.
Nie żałuję.
I don't regret.
Nie żałuję.
I don't regret.

Agnieszka Osiecka

Lost Summers

There is too much rain washing away experience,
I must remember summer.
Lying under hedgerows,
Paper pink-for-a-day dogroses,
The blanched mouths of June eager for love,
Ripe grass, green, dark with bruises,
Down on your cheek, fuzzed gold with sunshine.
Astonishingly cool smoothness of skin,
The small rake's teeth of eyelashes,
Kisses, gentle as slow running water,
I must remember summer.

Robert Sparrow

Nearly the end of the Year

How did that happen?

It just January a minute ago? I was flipping freezing and needed a hat, gloves and scarf, and now just the thought of them makes you hot.

January was a HUGE turning point for me. I actually started to think about how unhappy I was with a lot of things. Fast forward 7 months and I am packing my socks off!

I am also reaching the end of two things that have meant a great deal to me.
1. My photography class
2. My writing class

Although my photography class has only been in my life for the past 8 weeks, I have learnt a lot. I remember a couple of nights before my first class, my boyfriend decided to tell me what he knows (which is actually quite a lot). I remember thinking 'I am never going to remember all of this', but do you know, I have! I know I have to practise a great deal, but I suppose travelling will help.

My writing class however, has been a very big part of my life, and tomorrow will be the last session. It makes me sad, but I remember walking into that class last September, and being in complete awe at all these people who were obviously so good at writing! By the end of the year, people have come and people have gone. It has been brilliant to listen to every one's writing and I feel privileged to be part of this group.

So, although I will be saying goodbye to these very brilliant people, I hope that they will continue to stay in touch. I look forward to hearing all about their next steps, because for me, they have touched my life, and I am very grateful to every single one of them. :)

Calling all detectives...

Does anyone know who the artist is of this picture?

This is the place...

This is the place where my love and I went out on a 4th date.
It was the weekend that changed my path and placed me onto the one that I walk now.


We had been out for dinner, a BBQ round his house and the cinema, but this was the weekend that I returned from a weekend with friends in the South of France and met him for a drink down by the river where we now live. He had returned from a weekend paragliding with friends and was noticeably lobster-like red from the sun.

He picked me up after a few cajoling texts. I was certainly pursued in those early days and treasure every memory we have together of those times.

We drove down to the river and we showed each other photos of our weekend and whiled the Sunday evening away talking and drinking my the river. It was one of those moments where things can go one way or another. I could have chosen to say no to that evening, after all, I was already tired from the weekend away.
But I chose to say yes. I chose to live.

In the two years that have passed I have grown to love this man.
He's not perfect, but neither am I.
He has many imperfections, as do I.
But when I look into his blue eyes and run my fingers through his golden hair, I am happy.
He has a good heart and so do I.

Staying Awake

Its 12.30am and my eyes are tired.
I am doing everything I possibly can to stay awake.
I may have pushed through the sleep barrier, which means I will have trouble sleeping later.
It doesn't matter though.
I want to be awake when my love walks through the door.
I want to see his eyes and kiss his lips and breathe again.
All week I have been holding my breath.
Its been a long few weeks.

They say that absence makes the heart grows stronger.
I think it depends what you are doing in that absence.

Being involved has helped.
Having a regular text update of how he was and how his competition was going on, really helped.
He is notorious for being a goldfish. Last time I went away, I stuck messages on mirrors, kitchen cupboards and all around the bedroom to remind him to text me. He has a self confessed 'Goldfish syndrome'. But this time, he has really pulled it out of the bag.
I think it has contributed to pulling me out of my insanity fruitcake.
He's even good at that without being in the same country and without knowing what's gone on.
Now that's a gift!

Keeping very busy has also helped.
Having a 'week to myself', where Ive been on many courses, enjoyed laughter and a bottle or two with friends has been good for my soul.
Ive also done things I really wanted to do and taken a step back to reboot and take stock.
Now I can see what needs to be done
4 weeks till my run...whoops I didn't realise that until now.
I watched the movie 'Fat Boy Run' this evening and it has re-inspired me to get out there and train.
6 weeks till I leave my job.
7 weeks till I complete my Bridesmaid Duties
7-9 weeks till our Adventure Begins!

Its nearly 1am and its now officially Monday Morning, and waiting in the half light is like waiting for midnight on Christmas eve...

Si tú no vuelves

Si tú no vuelves
se secarán todos los mares
y esperaré sin ti
tapiado al fondo de algún recuerdo

Si tú no vuelves
mi voluntad se hará paqueña...
Me quedaré aquí
junto a mi perro espiando horizontes

Si tú no vuelves
no quedarán más que desiertos
y escucharé por si
algún latido le queda a ésta tierra

Que era tan serena
cuando me querías
habia un perfume fresco que yo respiraba
era tan bonita, era así de grande
no tenía fin...

Y cada noche vendrá una estrella
a hacerme compañía
que te cuente cómo estoy
y sepas lo que hay
Dime amor, amor, amor
estoy aqui ¿no ves?
Si no vuelves no habrá vida
no sé lo que haré

Si tú no vuelves
no habrá esperanza ni habrá nada
Caminaré sin tí
con mi tristeza bebiendo lluvia

Miguel Bose

Solo pienso en ti

Ella fue a nacer
En una fria Sala de hospital
Cuando via la luz
Su frente se quebro como cristal

Porque entre los dedos a su padre
Como un pez se le escurrio
hace un mes cumplio los 26
Solo pienso en ti

Hey, solo pienso en ti
Juntos de la mano
Se les ve por el jardin
No puede haber nadie
en este mundo tan feliz
Hey, solo pienso en ti

El nacio de pie
Le fueron a parir entre algodon
Su padre penso
Que aquello era un castigo del senor

Le busco un lugar
Para olvidarlo
Y siendo nino lo interno
Pronto cumplira los 33
Solo pienso en ti

En el comedor
Se sientan seperados a corner
Si me miran bien
Les corren mil hormigas por los pies

Ella le regala alguna flor
Y el le dibuja en un papel
Algo parecido a un corazon
Solo pienso en ti

Victor Manuel

What is happiness?

What is happiness?
Lying in the the arms in the the person you love.
Breathing in their scent.
Knowing you are safe.

What is happiness?
Making up with the person who reflects your history.
Feeling that they accept you no matter what.
Knowing that you share times that no one can replace.

What is happiness?
Dancing to your favourite songs even though no one is looking.
Wearing your favourite shoes that will always fit you.
Knowing that you can return to them.

What is happiness?
Leaving your past so that you can begin your future.
Beginning new ventures that you started long along.
Knowing that all will be well.

What is happiness?
Singing from the very heart of your soul.
Dipping your toes in the lake of joy.
Knowing that it opens up who you are.

What is happiness?
Being yourself and being honest to who you are.
Finding yourself after losing it for a while.
Knowing that you are you and no one else.

What is happiness?
Lying in the the arms in the the person you love.
Breathing in their scent.
Knowing you are safe.

A Reading from Mother Teresa
People are often unreasonable, irrational and self centred.
Forgive them anyway.

If you are kind, people may accuse you of selfish, ulterior motives.
Be kind anyway.

If you are successful, you will win some unfaithful friends and some genuine enemies.
Succeed anyway.

If you are honest and sincere people may deceive you.
Be honest and sincere anyway.

What you spend years creating, others could destroy overnight.
Create anyway.

If you find serenity and happiness, some may be jealous.
Be happy anyway.

The good you do today, will often be forgotten.
Do good anyway.

Give the best you have and it will never be enough.
Give your best anyway.

Struggles within the safety of the coconut haven

Its been an interesting two weeks.

Its not that I have lost my words, its just that I have hidden them.
'Too much rain washing away experience, I must remember summer'
If I could find that poem, it would probably make more sense...believe me I have tried. But the evidence is in one of my journals and its up in the loft, and its too late and dark to go there now.

I have experienced the very lows over the past two weeks and I am swimming in the aftermath. I have blown up bridges, which were my choice, and I have retreated to the safe haven of the coconut, I have chosen to silence my voice. I stopped singing. Or rather I chose not to sing, which is a different matter altogether.

Of course, I know the reasons. I live the reasons. How I live the reasons!

Its my greatest problem. I remember the past.
I remember what it was like to walk in sadness.
I remember what it was like to cry tears that would not stop.
I remember what it was like to drink into oblivion.
I remember what it was like to be hurt.

Have I changed?
I have walked the paths of my past in the last few weeks and know that I have.
I am better at rebuilding than before.
I am better at giving myself permission to crumble so that I can start again.
I am better at asking myself questions and answering them with much more confidence.
Have I changed? Immensely.

I know what it was like to walk in darkness.
I know what it was like to feel pain without evidence.
I know what it was like to feel numb.

And even after all that pain, I survived.
I survived to write it down and share it.
I lived it.
I walked it.
I arrived here.

My life could have been so different I know.
What I thought was meant to be wasn't.
What I thought should have been wasn't.
And I am glad for that. Because what I received instead was a million times better than I had previously thought I wanted.

I know what its like to face your demons every single day.
Every single day to meet your demon and have to grin and bear it.
Its not easy, believe me, its not easy.
But after a while, it gets easier.

Have I forgiven? I have tried.
There are times I feel it more than others.
Do I wish I could say the words? Perhaps.
I don't think they would make any difference now.
Although I am still me, I am different than before.
I am stronger.

And so, in the safe haven of the coconut I have been.
I have poked my head out from time to time to smell the fresh air and then retreated hastily back into myself. Back into the world I created to help me mend, to help me rebuild.

Every time I do this, I emerge stronger.
Will I ever stop? Probably not.
But I know that I love.
And for now, that is my shield.
And with my shield, I can emerge again.
The Coconut Butterfly.

Persian poet and philosopher Rumi wrote:

You were born with potential.

You were born with goodness and trust.

You were born with ideals and dreams.

You were born with greatness.

You were born with wings.

You are not meant for crawling, so don’t.

You have wings.

Learn to use them and fly.


http://tinybuddha.com/