Monday, 27 November 2023

THEY DON'T TELL YOU by Becky Hemsley


"THEY DON'T TELL YOU"
by Becky Hemsley 2023

People say that life is a rollercoaster.
Full of ups and downs. Highs and lows.
And I suppose that’s right to some degree.
But what they don’t tell you about, are the times when life is like a long train journey. No ups, no downs. Just life whizzing past the window without you even really noticing it.
They don’t tell you about the times when it’s a bumpy ride down a narrow lane where there’s no escaping the pot holes. Where it’s just life showing you that sometimes things are in the way and you have to get through them.
They don’t tell you about the times when it’s a journey of twists and turns. Not highs and lows as such. Just life throwing curveballs that force you to keep changing direction.
They don’t tell you that sometimes the train journey is a bit dull. That the bumpy ride has you clinging on for dear life or that the twisty, turny road has you feeling exhausted.
Life is a journey.
And not every moment can be exhilarating.
Sometimes we have to take the train in order to differentiate the highs and lows.
Sometimes we have to navigate the bumpy ride in order to appreciate the smooth sailing.
And sometimes we have to change direction in order to follow the path that’s right for us.
All we can do is trust
that when the journey finally ends,
we’re exactly where we’re meant to be.
And that - for the most part -
we enjoyed the ride.
******
Becky Hemsley 2023
Beautiful artwork by @Ulla Thynell Art

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Sunday, 26 November 2023

I MAY NOT BE A MOTHER

"I MAY NOT BE A MOTHER" 

I may not be a mother

but I am both woman and wolf
and I know what it means
to protect the young
to defend the sacred
to listen closely
with soft ears attuned
to the voices being silenced.
I understand what it means
to care for the pack
and all the ways
that we belong to each other.
I may not be a mother
but I know the hungry ghosts
who roam the haunted halls of empire
were once held in the soft warm velvet
of a mother’s womb
and she knew deep in the fire of her belly
knew with the first cries of life
that there is no such thing
as someone else’s children.
I may not be a mother
but I stand on the shoulders
of ten thousand grandmothers
and they have taught me
how to pray and really mean it
how to sing songs of liberation
how to cast spells of protection
how to plant seeds of change
how to grieve and love
in the fierce and gentle way
that births new worlds
and breathes them to life.
Build an altar underneath the olive tree
speak the names of the dead
say a prayer for the living
open the windows and doors wide
let the pain and grief move
let it break us open
let our tears be libations on the earth
stoke the fires of our love and holy rage
and light a candle
to show us the way
and guide us
through the darkness.

 

~ Gina Puorro
Art by Lucy Campbell


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Saturday, 25 November 2023

OUR JOURNEY TOGETHER IS SO SHORT


"OUR JOURNEY TOGETHER IS SO SHORT"
(author unknown)

A young lady sat in a bus. At the next stop a loud and grumpy old lady came and sat by her.
She squeezed into the seat and bumped her with her numerous bags.
The person sitting on the other side of the young lady got upset, asked her why she did not speak up and say something.
The young lady responded with a smile:
"It is not necessary to be rude or argue over something so insignificant, the journey together is so short. I get off at the next stop."
This response deserves to be written in golden letters:
"It is not necessary to argue over something so insignificant, our journey together is so short"
If each one of us realized that our time here is so short; that to darken it with quarrels, futile arguments, not forgiving others, discontentment and a fault finding attitude would be a waste of time and energy.
Did someone break your heart? Be calm, the journey is so short.
Did someone provoke or intimidate you? Be calm, forgive; the journey is so short.
Did someone betray, bully, cheat or humiliate you? Be calm, forgive; the journey is so short.
Whatever troubles anyone brings us, let us remember that our journey together is so short.
No one knows the duration of this journey. No one knows when their stop will come.
Our journey together is so short.
Let us cherish friends and family. Let us be respectful, kind and forgiving to each other. Let us be filled with gratitude and gladness.
If I have ever hurt you, I ask for your forgiveness. If you have ever hurt me, you already have my forgiveness.
After all, Our Journey Together is so Short! God bless you!
Have a safe journey!

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I AM TEACHING MYSELF by Nikita Gill


"I AM TEACHING MYSELF"
by Nikita Gill

I am teaching myself how to take up space. How to not apologize constantly for the way I live and breathe. How an apology isn’t something I am supposed to say before I speak in a conversation. How I’m so sorry, isn’t something I have to say before I just allow myself the basic right of speaking about anything.

I am teaching myself that I am allowed to exist on this planet without thinking of myself as a burden. How to not apologize for things that are out of my control. How to understand when people are trying to manipulate me into thinking the worst of myself and most of all how to stop thinking the very worst of myself as I deserve better than that from myself.

I am teaching myself that humans can exist without assuming the very worst about themselves and how the people around them perceive them. How to not apologize when someone bumps into me and I immediately assume it is my fault. How to not apologize when I ask a question because I think others will think I am stupid. How to love myself for these flawed bits of me no one has ever wanted to love before.

I am teaching myself that all the lies my abusers told me about myself were so very wrong. How I am allowed to make mistakes. How as long as I apologize and amend things, anything is fixable if I still have love in my heart for the other person. How not everything that has ever gone wrong in every relationship is my fault.

I am finally learning how to take up space as a human being. It’s taken a long, long road to get here. And I still have a very long way to go before I am done understanding that it is my job to take up space, that I am not just an afterthought or a secondary character in this gift of life I have been given. That who I am is not an apology, that who I am is not wrong.

~Nikita Gill
(Book: Wild Embers [ad] https://amzn.to/3Re3nmP)
(Art: 'The Swinger', 1969 by Andrew Wyeth)

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There’s no such thing as too much love


"There’s no such thing as too much love" (author unknown)⁣
If your babies are having a hard day,⁣
screaming, crying, and carrying on—⁣
maybe a tooth is breaking through her gummy mouth,⁣
maybe she’s having a growth spurt,⁣
maybe he’s overtired from a night of not enough sleep,⁣
maybe she has a painful diaper rash,⁣
and maybe she just wants to be held—
because sometimes their worlds make no sense to them,⁣
and their skin craves you to hold them close.⁣
So, cuddle your children into a hug,⁣
kiss them on their foreheads,⁣
pick them up and hold them,⁣
carry their hearts⁣
for as long as they want,⁣
at any age.⁣
Because there’s no such thing as too much hugging,⁣
kissing,⁣
holding,⁣
and showing you love them.⁣
Because love isn’t spoiling.⁣
It’s a gift,⁣
a blanket that drapes your children in security,⁣
and lets them come to you as they are,⁣
try things,⁣
fail,⁣
and try again,⁣
knowing you’re always there to carry them.⁣
And that’s how they’ll reach their full potential.⁣
So, love them "too much,"⁣
from the moment they’re born⁣
till you take your last breath⁣
Because they’ll feel that love even when you’re gone.

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I SHOULD JUST KEEP MOVING FORWARD by Rae Pathak



"I SHOULD JUST KEEP MOVING FORWARD" by Rae Pathak

For the longest time, all I had ever wanted was to return to the past and change my life. The absolute heartache of loving and losing, the terrible reality of change— all of it has given so many regrets. If I could, I would hold on to some moments. If I could, I would only love temporary things like that indie song playing in a cafĂ© that I didn't know the name of, or that stranger I met and had a long conversation with in the bus we took to a familiar city. There's a sweetness in falling in love with temporary things. You let go of them easily knowing that you, too, won't ever return to find them again.
I have been scared of too many things my entire life. Someone said that if I erase my past, I erase myself, so I shouldn't mourn it. I don't think they get it. I wasn't happy with who I had become, so if I could change my past, I absolutely would. But all of that is just daydreaming in the end, isn't it? I can't take it all back, and no matter how painful moving on seems, I have to do it.
But then the nicest things arrive late in your life. The trips I took, the several heartbreaks I experienced, the ordeal of falling in love again with not just temporary things but things that had the power to build or ruin you again— all of it makes you realise that even if you don't want to, life keeps going on. When I was younger, some days I wished to not exist anymore. Later, I realised that I never wanted my life to end. I just wanted the life that I knew of so far to end so that I, too, could finally experience the joy and hope that people talk so much about. I learned that change is a sad reality, but it's also the most beautiful thing in the world. Change gives you the space to become someone else, to find more about the world, to forget the intensity of your pain. Time and memory are amazing things. Our wounds do not heal, but they slowly escape our minds as we keep on living.
In my late twenties, I find myself accepting my past wholly— like a dear friend I lost. I have come to realise that I have a big heart and parts of it will always belong elsewhere— with the people I have loved, the cities I have visited, the graveyards I have sat in, the strangers I have enjoyed a warm cup of tea with in a foreign land. I have learnt that everything I have loved will become a thing of the past eventually, but love will certainly return— just in a slightly different form. That much is peace enough. That much, for now, is joy enough.
Changing the past isn't possible, but changing today and tomorrow still is. Loving and losing is a process we all have to experience our entire lives, I have come to realise it. Some days we won't be able to accept the fact that things will never be the same, but there's a comfort in knowing that I won't be the same either. I, too, will be ever-changing, ever-evolving. And that is why I should keep moving forward.
Illustration by Sam Yang

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OLD WORDS by Caroline Mellor


"OLD WORDS"
by Caroline Mellor

“We need to teach the children the old words,
words like brabble and grubble,
twitter-light and clinkerbell;
words which dance and trip and slip
and drip like honey off the tongue
Teach them that a hazy halo of cloud
around the moon is called a moonbroch
and that swiftly moving clouds are named
cairies;
how a vixen’s wedding is a sunny shower of
rain, and that a single sunbeam breaking through thick cloud is known as a messenger
Teach them to know the seasons and scents
of queen of the meadow and bride of the sun,
how to tell Jupiter’s staff from fairy fingers
and which roses bloom with the strawberry moon
Teach them to spot pricklebacks in the tottlegrass,
how to recognise a smeuse or a bishop-barnaby,
when to watch the sky for flittermice and yaffles,
and to pay attention to the dumbeldore and mousearnickle
as she graces the lazy leahs of summer
Teach them a few of the old Sussex words for mud,
like gubber and slub and stodge and pug,
so they know that the precious soil beneath their toes
is anything but worthless dirt
Teach them to be users and keepers and makers
of the words which bring the land alive:
a storybook, where everything has its rightful place, including us;
where the wilds are fearful and filled with magic
and people do noble things, and nothing is impossible
In this world of harsh new words —
words like planetary dysmorphia and solastalgia,
extinction debt and grief mitigation,
megadrought and megafire,
anthropogenic, pyrocene,
words which alarm and get stuck in our throats
describing a world which our hearts cannot grasp —
we need to teach the children the old words,
so that if they should feel lost,
the old words might colour for them
a warm and breathing, living map,
a light to guide them safely home.”
Art: Jim Colorex aka Emmanuel Fallet

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"A VERY MERRY CHRISTMAS MARKET, NOT"

"A VERY MERRY CHRISTMAS MARKET, NOT" (author unknown) Is there anything less festive than the Christmas markets? Thousands of piss...